Where You Long To Be
by Jema Moda
Summary: Fleeing France from a sinister threat, Christine and her son find themselves aboard a ship headed for America. The enigmatic Captain has agreed to take on the duo as his passengers for the journey. COMPLETE
1. Flight From Le Havre

This is my first attempt at writing since High School which was quite some time ago. I have been a fan of Phantom since 1989 and have always wished the story ended differently. So, inspired by all of the wonderful stories here on this site and by the movie, I have come up with my own ending for the Erik, Christine & Raoul saga.

Special thanks to the women that encouraged me, pushed me, drove me nuts, gave me tons of great advice and distracted the heck out of me…Phantomann and DarkestDreams. You guys are the reason this story is even here.

Also, I should thank my hubby who has been so supportive and never gives me any guff over my obsession with Erik or Gerry.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Phantom of the Opera – If I did, I would hopefully be lolling in some bed in the French Riviera with Gerard Butler as he continues to grace my casting couch even after the movie has been out for over a year. I do not own Christine – If I did, she would be a lot more like the one you are about to read about in my story. She'd have a spine, and see Erik with more than her eyes. I do not own Raoul – If I did, he'd have shorter hair and would have come out of the closet years ago.

And now for the hard part, I may need a minute…Welcome to the first public meeting of GA – Gerryaholics Anonymous. Co-founders DarkestDreams and PhantomAnn, please repeat the oath with me, "I do not own Erik, the Phantom or Gerard Butler's perfect likeness of Erik." As is customary at each meeting, DarkestDreams runs screaming into the night, "I don't want to be cured!" PhantomAnn and JemaModa shrug and begin to back out of the room, intending to find the nearest computer to download the latest pics of Gerry from hope you enjoy this story. The rating is reflective of future violence and sexual content. The story is near completion now, I have about two chapters left to write so updates will be regular. Please leave a review as feedback is good for the soul, yours and mine.

Cheers!

**Ch. 1 – Flight From Le Havre**

Christine struggled to keep up with her guide as they practically ran through the streets of Le Havre to the docks. The man didn't seem to notice her struggles to keep in rhythm with his long stride. The cobblestone path was shimmering with moisture from the last rainstorm that had ceased just a few moments before they had emerged from the carriage. Christine's shoes slipped a few times and she was increasingly fearful of stumbling. Though the man carried her meager luggage, she was under the burden of her son who had fallen asleep on the long journey. At 5 years old, the fact that his body favored hers was the only reason that she was still able to carry him. He was small for his age but what he lacked in stature he made up for in heart. Right now her thoughts were only of not slipping and sending them both to the ground.

The streets were quiet and deserted as it was before dawn. The captain had insisted that she and her son be brought aboard before the morning crew was awake. At least that was the message that she received from Mr. Stone, the first mate. She had not had any contact with the captain as of yet and she was informed that most likely she would not be seeing him on the journey. He did not want passengers on his ship, especially a woman and a child. Bad luck she assumed.

They were now in full view of the harbor. The ships were rocking against a backdrop of stars. She could smell the water and felt the first twinge of fear that she allowed herself in weeks. She was getting onboard a cargo ship for a two month journey to a new home. Running away from all she had ever known. Running to a place that held nothing to welcome her and her son. How had she gotten here, she thought.

Mr. Stone led her to the largest ship docked. As she mounted the gangplank she saw the name of the vessel that would serve as her home for the next two months, _Fereshteh_. She wondered what that word translated into and made a mental note to ask Mr. Stone at a later time.

Now onboard, Mr. Stone had finally stopped and was waiting for Christine at the top of the stairs that would lead below deck. "Follow me."

Christine took a deep breath of the sea air and wondered when the next time she would be able to do so would be. She knew from her conversation with the first mate that she would be sequestered in her cabin for the journey. Captain's orders, she was told. She gazed at the moon and stars and silently wished them goodbye. Finally, she descended into the companionway, entering the bowels of the ship.

Christine followed Mr. Stone to her cabin and entered as he opened the heavy wooden door. "I trust you will be comfortable here ma'am. Aside from the Captain's quarters, this here is the largest room on the ship."

"Thank you, Mr. Stone. I know this situation has been quite a burden on you and you have my eternal gratitude for your assistance." Christine had laid Charles on the bed and was anxious to join him. She felt obligated to try to express her gratitude to the first mate and let him know that she did indeed know how difficult it had been for him to insure their passage on this ship. She gave him a quiet smile and continued, "I will abide by the Captain's requests and stay in this cabin for the journey. You can assure him that it shall be as if we are not even onboard."

Mr. Stone was visibly relieved to hear these words from her. He had been surprised that his Captain would even consider the possibility of having passengers aboard, let alone allow it. He was a strict man, and unwavering in his convictions. How this woman and her son had been permitted to be here, Stone still had no clue. Now that she was here, he knew that she had better keep a low profile lest she be tossed overboard in a dinghy at low tide.

He bowed at the waist and closing the cabin door said, "Ma'am, I will try to see to your comforts while you are onboard. Please let me know if there is anything you need."

Before the door was completely closed Christine called out, "Oh, Mr. Stone, I almost forgot. What is Fereshteh?"

'Sorry ma'am, but only the Captain knows for sure. The lot aboard have their speculation as to it's meaning, but those things are not for a delicate lady's ears." Suddenly the sullen expression was replaced with a coy smile and a wink as he closed the door with a thud. Christine chuckled to herself and turned the deadbolt locking herself in her voluntary cell.

Turning her attention back to the room, she took a moment to survey her surroundings. The room contained a large bed on one side and a small cot on the other. There was a desk up against one wall and shelves lined the opposite wall. As she turned in a circle to take it all in, her eyes fell upon something that most definitely did not belong on a cargo ship filled with men. A gorgeous Oriental screen was propped up hiding one corner of the room. Apparently it was placed there to give her privacy when she dressed and undressed. She was surprised that Mr. Stone would be so thoughtful as to provide her with the screen. Perhaps there was a Mrs. Stone in some port of call that she had neglected to inquire about.

There were two portholes on the wall where the desk resided. _Thank the Lord_, she thought, _at least I will be able to look outside_. She approached a rather old, beaten up dresser and mentally wrestled with whether to unpack before she rested or just curl into bed with her son. Yawning, she told herself, there would be plenty of time to get settled into the room. _Besides, who cares if my dresses are wrinkled when no one will likely see me?_

She removed her traveling cloak, dress and corset leaving only her chemise on and slid into the larger bed next to her son. He instinctively turned to her warmth and wrapped an arm around her neck. He had recently developed the habit of sleeping with her. She didn't mind though, as it brought her comfort to know that he was next to her and felt safe.

Charles had been a joyful baby and continued to be a cheerful child. He sported sandy colored hair, though to her husband's dismay, she had kept it closely cropped. His facial features were also those of his father except for one flaw that didn't belong to either Christine or Raoul. A purplish-red birthmark marred the right side of his face from eyebrow to jaw. It had been a shock to his parents, causing all sorts of memories and uncomfortable thoughts to be conjured up in their minds. But no birth defect could squelch Charles' spirit. Even Raoul admitted after a few years that he barely noticed the discoloration anymore. Yes, it was still there and it had even become more pronounced with each passing year, but their son was so much more than what his face portrayed.

She closed her eyes and willed her mind to stop its wanderings. She had thought that sleep would overtake her immediately but she couldn't quiet her thoughts and relax. Within a couple hours the ship would weigh anchor and their journey to freedom would begin. Would she be able to breathe a sigh of relief or would she find the fear of the unknown to be just as bad as the fear of the known?

As they often did, the tears filled her eyes and she was filled with a profound sadness. "Oh Raoul. Why did it have to be like this? Why did you leave me all alone?"

"How _did_ I end up here?"


	2. The Voyage Begins

**Ch. 2 – The Voyage Begins**

"Mama. Mama. We are on the boat. Mama, lift me up to the window so I can see the water. Please mama."

"Ok baby, just wait one moment while I get up," Christine groggily replied to her all too awake son. She had fallen asleep and didn't even realize when. Her grief did that to her at times. She would sleep and not even know or feel that she had. Most times she was so exhausted that she felt if she closed her eyes while standing up, she could just sleep where she stood. The short nap that she had just taken had done nothing to relieve her of her fatigue.

As she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, she realized that they were indeed moving. They had set sail and the gentle rocking that she had felt when first coming aboard had turned into a more violent pitch. Her stomach rebelled and she took some deep breaths to subside the feeling. In a moment she had composed herself and tested out her sea legs. She found that she had to hold onto the bed in order to make her way to Charles who was standing underneath the porthole with his arms stretched over his head ready to be lifted up.

"You don't seem to mind the motion do you little man?" she said.

Charles was amused by his mother's precarious approach. "Mama, you can't walk?"

"Oh, I can walk, I just have to get used to this. Ready to see?" At Charles' enthusiastic nod, she lifted him into her arms and he pressed his nose and hands onto the glass to take it all in. What glimpse Christine could get only served to bring back that unpleasant feeling in her stomach so she quickly fixed her gaze on the wall.

"Mama, look at all the water. Do you think that we will see a shark? Or a whale? Maybe I could go fishing like I did with Papa Robert. Did you bring my fishing pole?"

"No sweetie. We had to leave your fishing pole at home." Christine was saddened by the thought of all of Charles's things that had been left behind. Almost all of his toys, his books, his baby things, all left behind. She had also had to leave her own jewelry, trinkets and a majority of the beautiful clothes that Raoul had insisted she have. But she didn't care about her things, she wished her son could have his fishing pole right now. "When we get to America, we will get you a brand new one. Okay?"

Charles didn't answer her as he was engrossed in the sights outside. Christine was finding it hard to balance the boy and keep her wits about her so she pulled the chair from the desk over to the window and set him on top. She sat down on the chair in front of his legs to keep him from toppling over and keep the chair from sliding. Sitting seemed to help. She really hoped that she wasn't going to be plagued with seasickness for the whole journey and she thanked the Lord that her son was showing no effects of feeling the slightest bit ill.

There was a knock on the door and Christine coaxed her son to get down off the chair so that she could answer it. She crossed to her trunk and withdrew her robe, wrapping herself. Before opening the door, she did as Mr. Stone had instructed and asked who was there.

"Tis me, Madam de Chagny. Stone." She unlocked the deadbolt and allowed him entrance. Immediately her son was up and running to the man full of excitement and tales to tell. "Mr. Stone, I think that I saw a whale out of the window. Maybe a mermaid. Mama forgot my fishing pole but do you have one I could borrow? Papa Robert taught me all about how to fish and I am really good too."

"That's enough little man. Let's allow Mr. Stone to enter the room please," Christine chastised.

"It's alright madam, he's a right good lad. I though you might be up and ready for a bit of something to eat," he gestured to the tray he was carrying before he laid it atop the desk. It was when he turned inquire of whether they needed anything further that he noticed Christine's pallor. "You alright miss? Ocean travel not agreeing with you?"

"I'm afraid that I do have a bit of an upset stomach, monsieur. Can you suggest a remedy?" she pleaded with her eyes fixed to his feet. She couldn't help feeling embarrassed in her weakness.

"Every new sailor goes through it," he consoled, "just drink some of that there tea and lemon and in no time you'll be right as rain." He willed her to look at him and she tentatively lifted her eyes to his gaze. He rewarded her with a smile, "see there, it's not hopeless. Now, is there anything else that you think you'll be needing? I've got a full load of work today and I want to be sure that you are all settled in before I attend to my other duties. First day at sea is always a bit of a challenge. Men get lazy when we dock and I have to remind them of their responsibilities right quick or there'll be mutiny." When Christine's eyes widened in shock he quickly added, "I'm just kidding miss. No one has a more loyal crew than Captain Apollos. There won't be no trouble on board this ship."

Christine felt more at ease with Stone's assurances and managed to find her voice once again. "Captain Apollos must be a very good captain then Mr. Stone?"

"Yes ma'am. Finest I ever served under. Oh sure he's a bit staunchy and can get downright nasty, but he runs a fine ship. And please miss, just call me Stone. So, if you aren't needing anything?" He paused for her reply and continued when she shook her head, "Right. Then I'll be off to my duties." He turned his attention to Charles before he took his leave, "I'll see what I can do about a fishing pole okay Tom Sawyer?" He was pleased at the boy's smile and noted his confused look over the nickname. "You don't know about Tom Sawyer and Injun Joe? Well, I'll loan you my copy and your Momma can read it to you. I think you'll like it." Once again, he bestowed upon them a wink and a grin and left.

Christine found that after sipping the tea with lemon she did indeed feel better. She settled Charles down with his drawing paper and pencils while she unpacked their only possessions in the world. She had brought a scant four dresses and some undergarments, along with a nightgown and her robe. It would have been considered absolutely scandalous for a Vicomtess to have no more to her name than this pitiful assortment of her most modest and unimpressive garments. But scandal was beyond her now.

She found that she was growing accustomed to the ships creaks and groans, even to its constant motion. "Charles, what are you drawing love?"

"Papillion," his horse. Another sacrifice. "I miss her momma. But Celeste said that she would ride her everyday and feed her lots of carrots."

"Celeste will keep Papillion happy. I know that you have lost much, but we have begun a great adventure have we not?" She knew that would get his attention. He shifted his eyes from his drawing to his mother. Excitement was evident in his features.

"Adventure?" he asked.

"Oh yes, a great adventure. A journey to a new land. A land full of Indians and frontiersmen. I have read of Davy Crockett who lived in the mountains of America and killed a bear with his two hands!" This was not something that one would hear of a Frenchman doing, at least not a nobleman. However, there was one man that she imagined wouldn't hesitate to slaughter a bear with his hands given the opportunity.

Charles was overcome with wonder, "Mama, tell me the story please."

Christine was happy that she had taken the time to do some research on American legends and culture. She had already read the story of Tom Sawyer and knew that he would love it as she did. A week passed by quickly as she told him stories of America, some true, some fable. He was forgetting all about what he had had to leave behind and now couldn't wait for what was ahead of him. She also found herself less and less looking to the past. She had caught her son's enthusiasm.

Stone continued to be the only contact that the pair had to the outside world. Christine found herself growing more and more fond of the man. She had learned that he was married and had five children of his own. His wife was an understanding woman, but her patience was wearing thin due to his constant traveling. He informed her that this was to be his last voyage with Captain Apollos as he was joining his family in the Carolinas. He had moved them out there a year ago with the promise of just one more trip abroad. One more had now turned into three and in order to save his marriage, he was bound and determined not to leave port again.

During one of their conversations, Christine paused to thank Stone for his discretion with regard to her son's face. Stone merely shrugged and cryptically stated, "I've seen worse."

"Ma'am, the Captain was in an uncommonly pleasant mood this morning and asked if your son would like to see some of the ship."

Despite Christine's shock at the offer, she was overjoyed that her son would be allowed some fresh air and a chance to stretch his legs. "That would be so wonderful!" she exclaimed, feeling the urge to hug Stone. "Please thank the Captain for me."

"Will do ma'am. I'm sorry that I couldn't convince him to let you do the same. He was kind of…adamant that you stay in your cabin." Stone looked as if he were remembering something rather unpleasant.

"It's okay Stone. I understand, superstitions and all that. I am just thrilled that Charles will be able to get out. I assume that you will be accompanying him?" she inquired in a motherly fashion.

"Oh yes ma'am. I'll be watching him like a hawk, I will. Don't you worry your pretty head."

Christine watched her son leave the cabin with the first mate and couldn't help but feel some jealousy. But he would come back and regale her with all kinds of stories of his adventures up on deck. Perhaps he would even meet the mysterious Captain Apollos.

Charles was overwhelmed with all the sights aboard the Fereshteh. He was convinced that they were aboard a royal sailing barge and that the Captain must have been a king of some distant land to have such a big ship. He plied Stone with a hundred questions and then set about asking more questions of the members of the crew that he had been introduced to. His favorite part of the ship was the large wheel and Stone had even let him steer the vessel! The exhilarating mood of the moment was quickly put to an end when Stone eyed the Captain watching them from the top of the stairs. For a few seconds, Stone was at a loss for what to do. Then he remembered that the Captain had given him permission to bring the boy up on deck. It was just the way that Captain Apollos was looking at Charles that disconcerted him. He couldn't quite place it. At first he was frightened to see the Captain looking at the boy with what seemed to be loathing, but then his expression softened a bit and he had no doubt registered the boy's birth mark. Slowly he crossed the deck to where Stone and Charles were standing. Not hesitating, Stone said, "Charles, this here is Captain Apollos. He's in charge of the ship."

Charles regarded the large man with curiosity. His hand moved to his face where the birthmark was as he studied the man's own face. Then his hand settled back at his sided as he said, "Thank you for letting me see your ship Captain. I really, really like it."

Deep green eyes appraised the young boy with admiration. "You are welcome Charles. Stone has told me that you are a fisherman?"

Disappointment found the boy's face and he dejectedly replied, "Yes sir. But my mama forgot my fishing pole." Just as quickly as his face had fallen, it lit up again as he quickly said, "Mr. Stone lent me his book Tom Sawyer. And if we could find a cane pole, I could use that like Tom!"

The Captain laughed despite himself causing his first mate to raise an eyebrow. Stone had never seen his Captain show such an uninhibited response to anyone before. It was almost miraculous! Captain Apollos ignored the incredulous look and said to Charles, "Perhaps we could manage to find you a fishing pole somewhere aboard. Mr. Stone," he said, now addressing his man, "can we accommodate this young man?"

"I'll see what I can do Captain." Stone replied. He continued to look at his Captain with fascination. He was actually smiling at the lad!

Suddenly, Captain Apollos became aware of the questioning look that Stone was giving him and the familiar scowl once again returned to his features. "I'll leave you to it then." He made a move to walk away, then turned back to Charles. "I'm pleased that you like my ship Charles." Then he left them.

Stone returned Charles to his cabin and left him to recap all the details of his exciting outing to his mother. He couldn't help but continue to be puzzled by the captain's reaction to the boy. Of course the boy's face had a lot to do with it. But what of that look of hatred that he saw at first? He couldn't have imagined that. The emotion had been all but rolling off of the Captain.

He decided to keep an eye on the situation. There was definitely more to this story than he knew. When he had first come to the Captain with the request of allowing a woman and her child passage, he had been thrown out of the Captain's quarters immediately. He stood his ground and told the story of the woman and her small son that he had met just an hour previously. The captain was so stunned that the first mate had not obeyed his order to leave that he forgot to throw him out again. But suddenly as he mentioned the woman's name, the Captain seemed to go into shock. He had crossed to his desk chair and put his head into his hands. Quietly, he asked Stone to leave him. This time he had complied.

After an hour, Captain Apollos had sought out Stone on deck and told him that they would accommodate the passengers. He then, very sternly, apprised him of the rules which the woman would have to agree to before they would be allowed to travel. Stone had been thrilled to hear that they would be accepting them. He had felt very bad for the woman's plight, even though he knew that she had not told him the whole story. He immediately left the ship to tell her to pack her things quickly and that he would be collecting her and her son the following morning before dawn. He was glad that she agreed to the Captain's strict terms, but knew that she had little choice.

Now he thought about those events and realized that he had stumbled into the middle of something that he was completely unaware of. Who was Christine de Chagny and why did she have to leave France so quickly? More importantly, why, at the mention of her name, did his emotionless Captain suddenly lose his composure for the first time in the six years that Stone had known him? And what of his reaction to the boy? _Oh there is definitely more to this story_, he thought


	3. A Visit With The Captain

**Ch. 3 – A Visit With the Captain**

"Charlie, don't lean out too far now." Stone admonished the boy for what seemed like the millionth time. Charles was definitely not afraid of the ocean as he continued time and again to push the limits of how far he could see straight down into the water. Stone still could remember the look on the boy's face when he had entered that cabin two days ago and produced a fishing rod from behind his back. Charles had jumped up and down on the bed, much to his mother's dismay, clapping his hands and squealing with utter delight.

Captain Apollos had given it to Stone that morning as they went over the day's events. When he had inquired as to where the Captain had found it, the man's answer that he had found it somewhere in one of the cargo holds was not convincing. Things did not just lie around forgotten onboard _this_ ship. Knowing the Captain as he did, he was sure that he had spent the last week and a half since meeting Charles, crafting the pole instead of sleeping.

Captain Apollos was very skilled at creating things. He had many strange contraptions lying around his cluttered cabin. Some were recognizable for what they were supposed to be, a timepiece, a model of the Fereshteh. But others were completely unrecognizable and at times he had seen the Captain pick one up to use it in a fashion that Stone would never have thought possible. The man who commanded this ship was surely gifted in many areas, more than just in running cargo and managing the vessel. Perhaps that was why he always sensed that the man was never quite content. He was a successful man of business and very well respected by his crew. But Stone knew that unlike himself, Captain Apollos's heart belonged to more than just the sea.

Just in time, Stone ran up behind Charles and grabbed the seat of his pants to pull him back on the deck. "Charlie, you've got to be careful. If you fall in the drink, your Mama will kill me and you'll likely end up living in the belly of a whale like Jonah!" Exasperated but amused by the boy, he walked back to his post to supervise the crew and his five-year old charge.

Very soon the Captain would come up on deck with the excuse that he had something to discuss with Stone. Then he would proceed to ask Charles about his luck in catching anything. Within a few moments he would be taking Charles back to his cabin to show him something that he had collected on his travels, or to feed the boy and they would spend the next few hours together. This had become the routine since the day that the fishing pole was given to Charles. He did not know what the boy and the Captain talked about, but his commander had never been in higher spirits than he had been of late.

When Stone had informed Christine of their afternoon meetings, she was a bit wary at first, but when her son returned to their cabin that afternoon with stories of the Captain's many voyages to exotic lands and of the mechanical toys that he allowed Charles to play with, she confided to Stone that she felt happy that he son had found a friend to make the trip go by faster. He sensed then that she was deeply suffering from cabin fever. "Can you sew ma'am?" Stone had asked "The men have a terrible habit of ripping their shirts and pants. We used to have a man that could do it but he didn't come on this leg of the journey. We'd be grateful if you could take over that duty for us."

Christine's sewing skills weren't perfect, but she was sure that she had enough knowledge to do patch jobs for the crew. "I will do my best, Sir." Since that day she had become head seamstress aboard.

As the first mate had predicted, Captain Apollos emerged from his cabin at just that moment. He made his way down the companionway, stopping in his tracks as he heard a familiar sound. He felt a constricting in his throat as he slowly approached the outside of the de Chagny's stateroom.

She was singing. His mind reeled and he had to will himself to stay in the present. Visions of the Opera house, her dressing room, his former home all swam into focus in his mind. He could almost smell greasepaint. Had it really been almost seven years since he had heard her sing?

Lightly, he pressed his open palm to the wooden door followed by the left side of his face. He closed his eyes and listened to the subtle intonations of her voice. No one knew her sound as he did. She was most definitely out of practice. Probably hadn't practiced in years. She wasn't singing for the masses anymore, and from the sound of it, she didn't sing much for herself either.

"Think of me  
Think of me waking silent and resigned  
Imagine me trying too hard to put you from my mind"

He could hear that she was crying as she sang. It was getting harder to distinguish the words as she sobbed them out.

"Recall those days,  
look back on all those times  
Think of the things we'll never do." As she said these words, she began to weep uncontrollably.

Softly, in a whisper, he breathed, "There will never be a day, when I won't think of you."

His fingers caressed the wood as he wished he could caress her face. Suddenly he remembered where he was. It certainly wouldn't do for his men to find him in the hallway, embracing a door. He straightened to his full height and continued to the end of the passageway and climbed the stairs.

Like clockwork, he appeared at Stone's side a few moments later. "Have you set the men to preparing the sails for possible hurricanes?"

"Yes sir," Stone answered promptly. This question was likely to be his most lame yet. It would be like asking if you had lifted the anchor before departing. Elementary.

"Good. Good." Abruptly he turned to look at Charles who was once again climbing up the railing to see some strange formation that the water was taking as the ship sliced through it. "Charles. How goes the fishing today?"

As he always did when the Captain would question him, Charles snapped to a respectful stance and looked the man in the face. He had been taught well by his parents. "I think that my bait is no good. I haven't caught anything at all today."

The Captain squatted down in front of the small boy to look at him eye to eye. He sympathetically said, "Not every day will be rewarding Charles. Yesterday you caught a magnificent fish, did you not?"

"Yes sir. But today I wanted to catch a bigger one!" Charles said with great exaggeration. As was becoming quite customary when around this boy, Apollos laughed. "Young man, patience is the golden rule to fishing. This is the exact reason why I have never been a fisherman," he stated very seriously then followed with a full grin. Slapping the boy on the back he rose and asked, "Have I told you about the fisherman that I knew in Russia? He swore that he had caught a fish as large as a borzoi. Would you like me to tell you about him?"

Charles's eyes lit up as they always did when he was confronted with the opportunity to hear one of the Captain's stories. "Oh yes sir. I just need to collect my pole."

Stone watched the pair disappear below deck and snickered at the contrast between them. The man was tall and very broad in the shoulders. Having worked with him for so long, he knew the Captain to be in excellent shape despite his age. Stone knew that Apollos was at least two score, but his body did not show signs of its age. The boy was very small and thin, but not sickly as some children that he had seen before. They looked like David and Goliath, and as he made the comparison, he thought, _David has indeed already defeated Goliath in this case_.

He had never thought that the Captain would make a good father. He was much too content being sullen most of the time. However, since his first meeting with the boy, that had all changed. He seemed to much prefer Charles's company to his former self-induced loneliness. But could this newfound contentment last very long?

Captain Apollos was fully animated as he continued to tell the story of Durov, the Russian man who was trying to convince his village that he had indeed caught a fish as large as a borzoi, which it turned out was a big Russian dog, and the villagers who threw him promptly into the sea after having enough of the man's lies. Charles loved the captain's stories, but mostly loved the way that the captain told his stories. As the boy nibbled on a crust of black bread, he watched wide eyed as Apollos weaved the story with dramatic gestures and foreign accents and a cast of different voices for each person that spoke. As he wound the story down, he came to sit across from the lad a little short of breath and with a bead of sweat on his brow. "So you see, young man, if you ever catch a fish as large as a dog and lose it, keep it to yourself or you just might find yourself treading water!" Rewarded by the child's giggling laughter, he sat back in his chair satisfied with his performance.

The peace of the moment was interrupted when Charles innocently said, "My Papa used to tell me funny stories too. He wasn't as good as you though." He shoved another piece of the bread in his mouth after he had imparted that tidbit of information as if he were reporting on the weather. The effect however was like a shock of electricity through the Captain's body. He sat forward, all calmness gone from his mood. However he did manage to keep his tone soft as he asked the boy the question that he had held back each day that they had met, "Where is your Papa, Charles?"

"With God," he said with a shrug.

Two simple words that had explained so much. Raoul was dead. How long? He knew that in his mind he had secretly hoped that she had run out on him, but at the same time knew that she wouldn't have done that to her son. He sank back once again and thought about this information. Christine and her son were alone and she was desperate to leave France. Stone hadn't told him anything of her circumstances and he hadn't asked. Certainly he had been curious, but fearful at the same time. He had never adhered to the old adage; the truth shall set you free. He felt that the truth would more likely creep into your body and fester in your soul.

"How old were you Charles, when he died?" He spoke the words carefully as he didn't want to upset the boy. But his curiosity was stronger right now than his concern for the child's feelings.

"Mama says that I was three. I don't remember a lot about him, but I remember him telling me stories. Sometimes I get mixed up. Sometimes I tell Mama about something that I did with my Papa and she says, 'No that was your Papa Robert'."

"Who is Papa Robert?"

"He takes care of our house and me and Mama. He's really old and he doesn't have any hair on his head at all. He's the one who taught me to fish. And his lady, Mama Charlotte, cooks the best tarts in the whole world."

So the servants of the house had been taking care of the widow and her son since Raoul's death, he had been gone for over a year and Christine was now, for some reason, desperate to flee her home. What kind of trouble had the girl gotten herself into?

He ceased his speculations when the boy quietly said, "Mama is sad. She cries a lot. I tell her to be happy and she says that she will try, but she always cries again. She says that she lost her Papa too. Then her Angel and then my Papa."

"Her Angel?" He said incredulously. Could he have heard right?

"Her Angel that makes her sing. She sings so beautiful. But it always makes her sad and she misses her Angel." The boy paused, and then abruptly switched gears. "Can I play with the music box sir?"

Distractedly, the man handed Charles the music box with the monkey that sat on top. In the back of his mind he heard the boy's sweet voice singing along with the music as he had taught him. He crossed to the window and looked out at the horizon lost in his thoughts. The child would have no reason to lie and he couldn't possibly know of Christine's Angel unless his mother had told him. The realization was too much to bear. She thought of him. She missed him.

"Charles, I'm afraid that I do need to return to my duties," he said without turning from the window. He needed time to think, a lot of time. And though the boy's company was enjoyable, he needed to be alone right now.

"Yes, Captain. I'll go back to my room now." Charles stood and replaced the music box on the shelf from which Apollos had retrieved it. He moved to the door and opened it.

Still gazing out the window, the man said, "That's a good lad," and he was alone again.

**Hope your curiosity is piqued. Please review on the way out. Since I'm a new author, I'm desperate for feedback! Thanks to those that have reviewed already. I'm baking chocolate chip cookies for you!**


	4. A Sudden Illness

_A/N: Big thanks to those who have taken the time to review! Keep it up._

**Ch. 4 – A Sudden Illness**

The bedroom was littered with shirts, pants and socks in piles ready to be sewn. The bathing tub that Stone had provided Christine for her comfort was now a washtub for the men's clothing. She was very happy to be busy, but she was also very lonely and found herself jumping up each time there was a knock on the door or her son would burst in. She would often keep Stone from his duties overlong, and he would have to beg her pardon to get back to his work. When her son was with her she would keep up constant chatter, usually asking about his time outside of the cabin, until he would become engrossed in drawing some picture of something that the Captain had described to him from one of his grand stories. Then he couldn't be bothered to answer her as he was concentrating so hard, and she would have to settle back into silence.

She had stopped crying some time ago, and now looked up with a freshly washed face to see her son come running in the room. He threw his arms around her neck for a hug and gave her a peck on the cheek. She asked, "Did you have fun my love? Catch a whopper today?"

"No. But the captain told me a wonderful story about a fish as big as a Russian dog. It was so funny!"

"Are Russian dogs large?" Christine asked.

"The Captain says so. He used to live in Russia you know," Charles said, his eyes as big as saucers.

"Yes, I know. You have told me that before."

"He's been all over the whole world," Charles exclaimed. Christine was aware that her son was completely smitten with the Captain. He had become the boy's idol. Her son had told her of his many escapades around the world, and about the endless menagerie of toys that he seemed to have in his cabin. He had mentioned that the Captain was large, but when she had asked what the man looked like, his response was, "He looks like me." She assumed that meant that he looked like a boy and not a girl as Charles was in the habit of describing people by their gender.

These frequent sessions between Charles and the Captain stirred her memory. She remembered sitting in the small chapel at the Opera house, listening to stories that her Angel would tell her of Persia and the many other places he had traveled in his youth. He had never spoken of himself, merely retelling stories that he had been told by the locals. Folklore, native to the regions that he had visited.

As a ship's Captain, certainly this man had traveled extensively as well. But as the boy recalled the stories to her, she envisioned a handsome, half-face telling the story to her son. She could even hear his voice, rich and deep with the hint of an unidentified foreign accent. She had to force the thoughts away from her mind and concentrate on her son lest she become melancholy again. Charles hated to see her cry and she didn't want to extinguish the excitement that he was now caught up in.

That night they shared supper in their cabin, as usual. They ate lamb and potatoes that were prepared exquisitely. Christine had been surprised at the food that was offered to them since coming on board the ship. Stone had said that the Captain hated inferior cuisine and had hired a cook that specialized not in feeding sailors, but the upper-class. Apparently the chef was quite a find.

After dinner they shared a block of French cheese which had always been Charles's favorite kind. After he had consumed half the block, she forced him to stop and put the cheese, along with the rest of the supper tray into the hall for Stone to retrieve. Christine stepped behind the screen to put on her nightgown as Charles jumped into his cot. She knew that within an hours time he would be right next to her in the larger bed, but she felt it important to at least attempt to make him sleep on his own.

After saying their prayers, she tucked Charles into the narrow bed and crossed to hers. Sometime in the middle of the night, she awoke with a start. She knew something was wrong. Charles was not in the bed with her. Fear gripped her heart but she did not know why. She exploded from the bed and bounded over to the cot. Charles's breathing was heavy and rasping. She reached her hand out to touch his head and pulled it back immediately. Her son was burning up with a high fever. She grabbed her robe and before she could possibly think of the oath that she had taken to remain in her cabin, sprinted out the door in search of Stone.

Stone's cabin was directly across from hers; therefore, he heard her door slam against the wall as she tore it open. He was almost to the door when he heard her frantic voice calling his name. As he entered the hallway, she was already down the passage and he had to call out to her to get her to come back to him.

"Christine," he calle and she turned and ran to him.

"Charles is sick. He's burning with fever. Please help me!" Her eyes were wild and she seemed on the verge of collapse. She wasn't scared, she was terrified. Stone knew that she had lost her husband to an illness and assumed that was the reason for her reaction now.

He steered her back inside the cabin and closed the door. In the darkness of the companionway, the Captain exited his cabin and moved down the hall to stand outside her door. He had also heard her door slam and had heard her call for Stone. Then the blood had frozen in his veins as he heard her say that Charles was ill. At that moment, all he wanted to do was burst into her room and examine the boy. But he realized that if he did so, she would most likely die of shock instantly. He would wait for Stone. Stone knew of his talent for preparing medicines as he had conjured up many potions over the years to aid the crew with various forms of illness. The mate would come for him soon.

"Was he like this when you retired?" Stone asked gently.

"No, he was fine. He always comes into my bed, but he didn't tonight. I knew something was wrong. He didn't come into my bed." She couldn't keep her thoughts straight. There were no doctors on board, she was sure of that. What if he died? What if the very journey that was supposed to save him, killed him instead? Could fate be so cruel? The room started to close in around her and Stone caught her as she lost consciousness. He placed her in her bed and ran out to get the Captain.

As he entered the hallway, Apollos stepped out of his cabin. "What is wrong with him?" Concern was evident on his face.

"Fever. It's very high. His mother has fainted. Will you come and take a look at him?"

He didn't hesitate but took his chances and entered her room. The aroma hit his nose like a brick wall. Seven years and the scent of her was still intoxicating as ever. He kept his eyes from her bed and crossed to Charles's cot. Feeling the boy's brow, he shook his head with worry. "I will prepare something to bring down the fever. We don't know what is wrong with him so it may not work. Stay with them," he ordered and exited the room.

There was no movement from either bed and before he knew it the Captain had returned with the draught. Stone helped him prop the boy's head up and pour the liquid down his throat. "Will you remain here and alert me immediately if anything occurs?"

Stone nodded his assent, "But, why don't you stay, sir? Surely the boy's mother will not be upset that you are attending her son?" He knew the Captain wouldn't stay, but he also knew that his worry over the boy could be just the thing to change his mind.

"I cannot," he hissed with unchecked anger. There was nothing he wanted more, but the scent was beckoning to him to look toward her bed. He didn't know what would become of him if he gave in. He had to leave the room and compose himself, so without another word he left.

Christine awoke confused to find Stone sitting in her cabin, but then remembered, _Charles is sick_! Stone looked up as she got out of the bed. "Take it easy miss. You've had a shock to your system and you passed out. We've given the boy something to bring down the fever," he explained.

"And, has it worked?" she asked timidly.

"No, I'm sorry, it hasn't."

Christine sank back down to sit on the edge of the bed. The look on her face was one of defeat. Tears were falling down her cheeks as she said, "He's going to die, isn't he? I lose everyone I love, you know. The Lord is punishing me for my sins."

Stone couldn't imagine what this sweet, young woman could possibly have done in her life that she thought was worthy of the Lord's punishment. He moved in front of Christine and knelt. Taking her hands in his, he said "Christine, you must be brave and have more faith. As we speak the Captain is pouring over his medical books looking for something that will help. If anyone has the power to save your son, it is he."

_Should I dare to hope that this man can help him_, she wondered. A man that has befriended her son but wouldn't dare reveal himself to her was to be their savior? _But what choice do I have_? She nodded slowly to show that she accepted what Stone had said, but the tears still fell.

Suddenly, both sets of eyes were on the boy as he body began to convulse. Christine screamed and Stone moved to the boy to hold him on the bed so that he did not fall out. Breaking her out of the trance that she had lapsed into, he yelled to her, "Come and hold him while I get the Captain!"

She moved to her son and Stone ran from the room. Reaching the Captain's quarters, he knocked without response. Knowing that Apollos would forgive him, he pushed open the door to find the man engrossed in a large book. He was so lost in his search of the text that he didn't notice Stone come in. "Sir. The boy is convulsing, you must come." Shocked at the intrusion, it took him a second to register the words that the first mate had said. He rose abruptly, knocking over his chair. "Is she awake?" he asked.

"Aye sir."

The captain hesitated a moment in the hallway and visibly warred with himself as to what to do. He couldn't deal with her now, not like this. The boy was all that mattered. Forcefully he said, "Get her out of the room. Have her wait in your cabin until I have finished." Seeing the look on Stone's face, he added, "You must convince her to leave him for now. I cannot attend him with her there to distract me."

Stone rushed into the room as the Captain moved back into the shadows of the passage. He could hear her arguing with his mate, and then saw her being pushed into the man's cabin. Once the door was closed he entered the room and examined the boy again. The convulsions had stopped for the moment and Charles was stirring. He opened his eyes and saw the man above him. Weakly he said, "Where's my Mama? I want my Mama."

Apollos hushed him and stroked his hair. "She will be here in a moment. Are you in any pain Charles?"

"My arms hurt and my legs hurt. Like after I've ridden on Papillion too long."

"Papillion is your horse?" The boy nodded. In an instant his face turned sheet white and he vomited. Stone moved to clean him up and the Captain rose to leave. "Stone, have his mother come back in and stay with him. I need to research further."

As he walked back down the hallway, Christine came out of Stone's cabin and looked after the Captain. It was her first glimpse of the man, and though it was from behind, a sense of familiarity hit her. Her son had been right, the man was big. Why she felt she knew him was beyond her. She had never even met a sailor before this voyage!

Entering her cabin once again, the smell of vomit washed over her. She crossed to the water basin and rang out the towel. Stone had cleaned up a majority of it and she noticed as she washed her son's face that he was awake. "Mama. I don't feel good."

"I know love. The captain is trying to find something to make you feel better. You just have to rest." She was concerned that his fever had still not come down at all. She turned to Stone and asked, "What did he say?"

"Nothing yet ma'am. He is looking into his books further. We need to give him some time. I'm sorry." He noticed that the boy had either fallen asleep again or he had lost conciousness. His mother looked like she was going to have another spell herself. "I know that it's difficult, Christine, but I think that you should try to sleep while he is resting. You need to stay strong for whatever happens."

"No, I need to keep vigil over him. I couldn't bear to wake up and find that something had happened to him."

As Stone left the cabin to check the Captain's progress, she cried out to the Lord on her son's behalf. "Please do not take him from me. Please. Give me strength to stay strong and courageous. Help me to trust these men to help my son. Please Father. Don't take my son!" She wailed out the last words and collapsed on her bed sobbing.


	5. Prayers Answered

_A/N: More thanks to those who have left reviews. You can't imagine how happy getting the email that I have a review makes me! Here comes first contact. Enjoy._

**Ch. 5 – Prayers Answered**

"Anything yet sir?" Stone asked carefully.

"Nothing." Turning away from his reading, he faced Stone. "I need to have access to the boy Mr. Stone, and I absolutely cannot have Chr… Madam de Chagny interfering." He needed the man's cooperation in order to complete this task, though he knew that Stone would not like it in the least. He moved to prepare a cup of hot tea and added a few drops of clear liquid. Handing the cup to Stone, he looked the man in the eyes and said, "Have her drink this. It will put her to sleep for awhile."

Stone accepted the cup and silently left the room. He hated to do this to her. But he knew that arguing with the Captain would do no good. He had no fear of the Captain's intentions. The child was Apollos's only concern, of that he had no doubt. Charles held the man's affections, and knowing his commander as he did, Stone was sure that there were no lengths that he would not go to in order to cure him.

Finding Christine on the floor, kneeling next to the cot and clutching her son's small hand in hers, Stone approached her and extended the tea. "Please drink this Christine, if for no other reason but to warm your bones."

She accepted the cup and sipped the contents. "Has the Captain come to any conclusions yet?"

"He is working very diligently. I tell you that man will not stop until he finds the answer! You must trust him."

As she drank the tea she found that a warmth was indeed encompassing her. She felt as if she were seeing Stone through a fog. Without any inhibition, she let out a very unladylike snort. "Trust him? I don't even know him! All I know of him is he is a woman-hating giant who plays with toys and travels all over the world. This is who I am to trust my son's life to?"

Stone was shocked by the woman's candor. He definitely could see her point, as far as she was concerned, she didn't know anything of the Captain. As he made to comment on her statement, he saw her eyes close and the cup fall from her fingers to the floor. Looking at the calmness of her face in sleep, he said quietly, "I have a feeling, my lady, that you know him better than I do."

Several times throughout the night she dreamt of her son. In one dream he was being taken up to heaven by her Angel. Tears fell onto her pillow as she watched them leave her. In another she saw Raoul hugging Charles and leading him away from her. She cried out to them but they ignored her and kept going. Stone moved to her bed and stroked her hair trying to calm her. He knew she was wracked with nightmares of her son's death. She had been crying out his name as well as her husband's. Several times she said, "Angel". He hoped that she would find some rest and restore her strength. Lord knew what was in store for her.

The Captain returned several times throughout the night assessing the boy's condition. His hair was unkempt and he looked truly exhausted. He hadn't been able to identify any illness that fit the child's symptoms. He was concerned that if they didn't bring the fever down soon, permanent damage would set in.

Sending Stone to his own cabin for a few hours of sleep, he had brought one of his many medical tomes into the de Chagny's cabin and continued his search. At some point he realized that the boy's eyes were on him. "What is it Charles?" he asked gently.

The boy's voice was a sweet whisper, "My Mama won't like your mask. The Comtesse told Mama to put a mask over my face and she yelled at her. She said that covering my face would be mean."

"Your mother loves you very much," the man said with great sorrow evident in his voice.

"Are you very ugly under your mask? Uglier than me?"

"Yes, much uglier, Charles. You, on the other hand, look like a normal little boy to me."

"Papa Robert used to say that God spilled wine on my face while he was making me. Mama and Mama Charlotte didn't like it when he said that. They said God doesn't drink wine." Charles's voice was getting softer and his eyes were closing again. Before he fell asleep, he whispered, "I won't be scared of your face Captain. I promise."

When Charles's breathing became even once again, Captain Apollos leaned back in his chair to think about what he had just heard. He turned his head to look at Christine for the first time in seven years. She had saved her son from his own fate. The boy was in no way as deformed as he himself was, but a lesser woman would have given in to the pressures. His own mother had.

Sleep had a way of softening one's features, but as he looked at her face, he could tell that she had aged. The fullness of youth was gone and dark circles looked to be permanent fixtures under her eyes. He was sure that they were still the deepest velvet brown behind her closed lids. Her skin was so pale, as white as his had been all those years ago when he had lived his life underground. He wasn't too much less of a hermit now, but he most definitely had a tinge of color in his complexion.

"I will save him Christine." He said softly. Then he spoke his cruel thoughts, "Then who will save me? I will never be saved from my solitude. You will take him when we land, and I will have to forget you all over again. And I will have to forget him, the only child of my enemy. I would give my life to save him for you, my love." He allowed a tear to roll unhindered down his unmasked cheek before he turned away from her. He had much work to do tonight.

As dawn was breaking, he exited the cabin to wake Stone and inform him that he was retiring to his quarters to continue his exhaustive search. He did not want to chance the laudanum wearing off and his being discovered. Stone promised the captain that he would come and get him if any change occurred in the boy's condition, and begged the man to get some sleep. Grumbling a non-committal response he strode down the hallway.

Christine woke late in the morning and was shocked to realize that she had slept. Stone mumbled something about her being under a lot of stress and helped her change the bedding on the cot. The day passed with Charles regaining consciousness sporadically. During one of his awake moments, he asked where the Captain was. Stone assured him, "The Captain is very busy finding a medicine to get you better, Charlie. But he'll be around soon enough."

"Will he now?" questioned Christine with a raised eyebrow. She didn't know why, but she was very frustrated that under the circumstances the Captain still refused to have any contact with her.

Stone noted the sarcasm in her question and said, "The Captain will do what is best ma'am."

"Best for whom?" she snapped back. Instantly she regretted her tone. "I'm so sorry Stone; I don't know why I said that. Please pay me no mind."

"No harm my lady. Never fear." Stone reassured her. He understood her attitude toward the Captain. It was confusing to her that he very clearly had shown his affection for the boy day in and day out, and now with his life on the line, he wouldn't set foot in their cabin to check on him for fear of coming face to face with her. She probably chalked it up to pride, and that would infuriate any woman in her situation.

As night fell, Stone went to the Captain's quarters to check on his progress once again. Apollos gestured a hand to a prepared cup of tea, indicating for Stone to take it to Christine. The mate understood the man's intentions were to get her out of the way again so that he could have the evening to watch over the boy. Sighing, he picked up the cup and returned to Christine.

Once she was tucked into her bed in a drug induced sleep, Stone went to fetch his Captain then went to check on the status of the ship. Thankfully the crew was self-sufficient and able to run things without having to be watched constantly. There were always a couple of bad apples in any group of men that they took on, but the Captain had an uncanny knack for choosing good, reliable men for the most part.

When he returned to Christine's cabin, Apollos was nowhere to be seen. Stone wondered where the Captain would have gone to so quickly after being able to see the boy again. He didn't have to wait long for the answer as the man returned with a satisfied look on his face. He held a substance in his hand. Without speaking, he and Stone gave the liquid to the boy and stood back watching him as if he would suddenly jump up and be well again.

Behind the men, Christine had started to toss in her sleep. A moment later, she shouted out, "Angel!" and the men turned to her in shock. Her eyes were open, but after a moment Apollos realized that they were unseeing. He moved to her and leaned his face to hers. He brought his mouth next to her ear and murmured softly, "Sleep my beauty. Your son will be restored tomorrow. Rest love." Slowly, he drew up to his full height never removing his gaze from her lovely face. With a shuddering breath he whispered, "Christine". Closing his eyes and finding them filled with tears, he steeled himself from the onslaught of emotion that had hit him. Without looking at the other man in the room, he simply stated, "The boy had succumbed to a rare food poisoning, Listeriosis it is called. The bacteria is carried in milk and cheeses that have not been stored properly. It doesn't affect many people, he just happened to be susceptible. The draught we gave him will cure him, but he will need rest. Please keep me informed of his progress." After he had spoken, he quickly left the room as if he were pursued by demons.

Stone was shocked by what he had just witnessed. In fact, he wasn't sure what it was that he had seen. Better to think of it in the morning. Before he closed his eyes and let the sleep overtake him, he reached out a hand to the boy and was happy to note that his fever had indeed come down. His captain was most definitely a man of many talents.


	6. Return Of The Phantom

_A/N: Not too much longer now, fellow E/C shippers. Thanks again to those who took the time to leave a review. I just love to know you are out there reading._

**Chapter 6 – Return Of The Phantom**

When Christine woke the next morning she found that her son's fever had broken and his breathing had returned to normal. She silently thanked God for whatever miracle had occurred during the night. Charles's illness had hit too close to home for her. She was pitched back three years to watching Raoul succumb to cholera. His symptoms had been the same; Chills, fever, nausea, spasms. The Physician had forced Christine and Charles to leave the de Chagny manor during his bout with the illness because of the highly contagious nature. Christine's compliance was more out of fear for her son's health than her own. But the Comtesse de Chagny, Raoul's mother, had been horrid to Christine during this time. She had accused Christine of not caring about Raoul and of not wanting him to recover. Christine had been made to feel as if she had abandoned her husband during his time of greatest need. The illness had not lasted long. Within days of the onset, he had died. She had felt a guilt that was so oppressive, she felt crushed under it constantly.

Due to her worry over Charles's condition, she couldn't believe that she had once again slept through the night. She found that she was experiencing a groggy sensation that was familiar to her as she had also felt this way the previous morning. She felt as if she had been drugged. Although she trusted Stone, she couldn't help but notice that the last thing she remembered from both nights was him handing her a cup of tea. She decided to confront the first mate with her suspicions once the man awoke.

Stone was sleeping in a chair next to Charles, so Christine prepared herself for the day behind the ornate screen in the corner. When she emerged he had just begun to come awake. Surprised to see her up and out of bed, he ran a hand through his hair and stood. Instinctively he reached a hand down to the boy feeling his brow. "Christine, he's better," he reported excitedly.

"Yes, I know. I had checked him already. Thank you Stone, for everything."

"Don't thank me ma'am, it was the Captain's doing. He found that Charles had food poisoning from the cheese that he had eaten."

"But I ate the cheese as well! I showed no symptoms, how could that be?"

"The Captain said it doesn't affect many people. Charles just happened to be one of those that it does."

"I will have to thank him Stone. He stood between my son and death and he granted us passage. I owe him my life. Surely he will allow me to express my gratitude?"

"Christine, the Captain is a complicated man. He is also very set in his ways, more so than any other man I have ever known." Seeing the disappointment on her face he quickly added, "I will ask him on your behalf, but I make no guarantees."

"Now let me go see to your breakfast." He started toward the door and she moved to intercept him before he left.

"Stone, would you please take your breakfast with me today? There is a matter I would like to discuss with you."

"Let no one say that Rupert Stone ever turned down an invitation to dine with a beautiful lady." Grinning he made his way to exit the room once again only to be taken aback by her next words.

"And if you wouldn't mind, I'll prepare my own tea this morning. I find your blend does not agree with me." She leveled him an accusing look which caused heat to rush to his cheeks. He decided it would be better to say nothing and left her.

Christine returned to her son's side, checking his condition once again. She couldn't believe the trauma that the last 36 hours had held was behind her. He was sleeping peacefully, his red-cheeked profile exposed to her view as his head lay on the opposite side. She remembered then the dream that she had the night before. It had been so surreal and yet so completely vivid, for a moment she dared believe it had actually happened.

Her Angel had been here in this room. She had felt his presence, heard his voice, and seen his face. She had called out for him and he had come to her, comforting her, promising that Charles would live. She knew that she must have been dreaming, even hallucinating. When she had been a child, it was he that had soothed her broken heart from losing her father. It was he that made her smile after the other ballerinas had called her clumsy. He had told her she was destined for greater things than prancing around a stage. His voice was her safe haven for so long, and then it was her torment. Why would she conjure him up now? It made no sense!

Stone returned with their breakfast. "No cheese", he announced, "and no tea either". He had decided not to deny his part in drugging her. Her son was well and the Captain had insisted. He had merely been obeying orders for the greater good.

Christine sniggered at his off-handed comments. "Under the circumstances, I suppose I should forgive you. I assume it was not your idea in the first place?" When he shook his head she continued, "I hope to God that this incident will not repeat itself. I prefer to be in control of my faculties and not at the whim of your Captain."

"Aye ma'am. I do beg your pardon Christine and hope you will forgive me." He regarded her humbly and she continued to give him her most matronly disapproving look for a few more seconds. Then she smiled and invited him to sit at the table. She laid out the prepared food and poured the tea that she had prepared herself. She set aside a third cup of tea to cool for Charles to sip once he was awake.

"So Mr. Stone, tell me about the events that I unwittingly missed."

"There's not much to tell. The Captain was able to identify the boy's malady and gave him the proper medicine to restore him."

"Captain Apollos seems to be a man of a great many skills. At one point last night I thought that I had been granted a look at the man, but it turned out that I was dreaming."

In between forkfuls, Stone commented, "You had a lot of nightmares, that's for sure."

"You could tell?" she asked.

"You talked in your sleep, called out for Charles and your husband. You were in some real distress." He shook his head and continued, "It's probably a good thing you were knocked out, you couldn't have slept otherwise with all of these visions haunting you. Last night you screamed 'Angel' and scared the wits out of the Captain and me."

"I did? Oh good Lord!" _It must have been when I was having that strange dream_, she thought.

"Is Angel a person or were you seeing an angel in your dream?" He had stopped eating and was giving her his full attention. He knew that in the next few moments, either all of his suspicions would be confirmed or denied.

Uncomfortably she explained, "Before I was married, I used to live in the Opera Populaire in Paris. There was a man there that I was very close to. I called him my Angel. My Angel of Music." She remembered when she had told her best friend Meg about her Angel for the first time. It had been after her debut in Hannibal. Then she had believed him to truly be an Angel, a spirit. Now she knew better.

Stone sat in silence waiting for her to continue. She was apparently lost in her memories of her Angel and he did not want to push her. "He trained my voice. He was my confidante and my protector. When my father died and I went to live in the opera house, I was so lost and so sad. Some nights, I would lie in bed crying and he would sing to me, soothe my aching heart." Her face was lovely as she recalled the innocent relationship that they had shared in their early days. But her serene countenance was replaced with pain and tears filled her eyes. Stone didn't make a sound. She was lost in the past now, obviously remembering whatever it was that had changed between herself and her Angel.

Finally she spoke again, her tone harsh. "He had lied to me. He was no angel. He was just a man, like any other except that his life had twisted his mind and darkened his soul. He called himself Phantom. He murdered two men simply because they were in his way. He would have killed Raoul, my husband if not for…" She was once again lost in her thoughts of a dark time in her life. Abruptly her eyes cleared of the fog that had been there and without emotion she said, "He's dead now."

"How do you know?" Stone dared to ask.

"If he wasn't he wouldn't have let me live in peace all these years. He was obsessed with me and hated Raoul. He would have come back for me if he had survived that night." She sounded as if this were something that she had convinced herself of many times over the years.

Stone saw all of the pieces coming together in his mind but he had to be sure. There was one more piece to be placed. "Did you ever know his real name?" he asked with anticipation.

"I didn't find out until after I was married. Raoul was always concerned that he would return for me and spent a great deal of money to find out everything that he could about the Phantom." She hesitated for just a bare second and quietly said, "His name was Erik. We never found his family name."

Stone leaned back and exhaled. He realized that he had not breathed since he had asked the question. The puzzle was complete, every piece was in place and Stone knew the truth. What he didn't know was what to do about it. A million things were running through his head at that moment and he didn't know which one to say to Christine. He was saved from having to make a decision when Charles's weakened voice alerted the pair to his presence.

"Mama, I'm thirsty. May I have a drink please?"

Christine rushed over to her son with the cooled cup of tea. "Here you are darling. You are much better now, do you feel better?" He nodded while he gulped the beverage, his eyes looking up at her over the rim of the cup. "Your good friend the Captain quite possibly saved your life. We shall have to thank him." Turning to Stone, she reminded him of his earlier promise. "You will convince him to see me?"

Even though Stone now knew why the Captain was keeping his distance from the woman, he hoped that he could convince him to see her. His friend had not been alive until she and her son had boarded this ship. She had been completely correct, her Angel had been dead. But no longer. He was reincarnated by her son's companionship and by her very presence. He responded, "I will do everything in my power to convince him Christine." And he meant it.

……………………………………………………………………………

"No."

Stone hadn't expected Erik to answer any differently. He was still trying to decide whether to put all of his cards on the table or not. Telling the captain that he knew who he was and who Christine was to him could be a big mistake. She had said that he was a murderer. In the years that he had known the man, he had never killed anyone even though there had been many men that had deserved to die serving aboard his ship. Men had stolen from him, mocked his appearance and one man had even killed another crew member in a drunken rage. Certainly the Captain had gotten angry, violently so, but he hadn't murdered these wrongdoers. He had obviously changed since last seeing Christine.

"Sir, she is most adamant. You saved her son and she feels compelled to show her gratitude. Surely you can't deny her that small gesture?"

"Yes I can." Erik's reserved and dignified appearance had returned since having rested after administering the healing liquid to the boy last night. He was catching up on the ship's log and hadn't bothered to even look up at Stone since he had entered.

"I don't think that she is going to like your refusal."

"Mr. Stone, why do you think that I am interested in what she likes?"

"Captain, I saw you with her last night." Erik looked up at the man sharply, daring him to continue. Stone was unsettled by the look and swallowed before continuing, "I'm just saying that I think…"

Erik cut him off with a slam of his open palm upon his desk. "Don't tell me what you think Stone. I don't care," he hissed.

Stone surprised him by straightening his back and boldly responding, "I think you do care. I know you care for that boy and I know you care for Christine."

"What are you going on about, man?" Erik demanded.

_God help me, _Stone pleaded silently "She told me about the Opera Populaire, about her Angel. About you."

Erik's exposed features registered shock which was then replaced by fury. Stone had found the man who was capable of murder, much to his dismay. "So you know," Erik stated with frightening calmness. "And what will you do with this information, I wonder?" He slowly rose from his chair. "You haven't told her, that much is certain." He rounded the desk approaching Stone. "If she knew, she'd be here instead of you." He stopped a few inches from the other man. Stone was a tall man, but he was dwarfed by Erik and, for the first time since knowing him, he was fully aware of the fact. "She is free of me. You need to leave it be. Do you understand?" As he spoke these last words he raised a hand and placed it at Stone's throat.

Stone wished that he weren't intimidated, but at that moment he didn't know who this man in front of him was. This was not the man who he had known for all these years. This was not the man who had lovingly cared for a little boy just hours ago. This man was a killer, cool-blooded and unpredictable. The only thing that he could do was agree. He nodded his assent and turned to leave, fearing that he would be stopped. He made it to the door unscathed and couldn't muster the courage to so much as look back at Erik. He stepped into the hall and drank in greedy gulps of air to calm his nerves.

As he walked back to his own cabin, Stone wondered what he had gotten himself into. Would the Captain have really done him harm? He didn't want to think so, but Apollos had been threatening. Perhaps Christine should be kept from finding out the truth about the Captain. He could be putting her in danger right now by revealing his knowledge to Erik. He realized that he should have given it more thought, should have approached it more cautiously. But he couldn't have been prepared for the other man's reaction.

Safely locked in his cabin he allowed himself to go over the meeting with the Captain once again. No, he couldn't have imagined that Erik would react that way. Christine had some power that brought out the best and the worst of him. Now Stone had to decide what to do. He had placed himself squarely between a rock and a hard place with no means of escape.


	7. What You Don't Know Can't Hurt You

_A/N: I know that some of you are going to be mad at me for the short chapter, but I wanted to leave you with a cliffhanger on this one. The anticipation for E & C to finally meet has to be prolonged a bit longer. I will post the next chapter tonight most likely as I don't particularly like to be on the hook too long either._

**Ch. 7 – What You Don't Know Can't Hurt You**

Christine knew that something was wrong. Stone hadn't come back with the Captain's answer and he had left hours ago. It wasn't like him to not come by. She thought he would have at least come back for the breakfast dishes. She had just completed reading a chapter of Tom Sawyer to Charles and had returned to her sewing after the boy had fallen asleep again.

This captain was surely an enigma. Why would he possibly want to remain completely unknown to her, she wondered? Each thought that she had with regards to a reason caused her to grow more and more uneasy. The man was hiding something, of this she was sure. But what? He had nothing to fear from her, he must know that. He was her knight in shining armor for goodness sakes. Perhaps she should just knock on his door and tell him, not waiting for permission. What was the worst he could do to her? Throw her overboard? She laughed at the thought. No one was that cruel.

As she opened the door to her cabin, Stone was exiting his own room. "Christine what are you doing?" he asked with alarm.

"I have decided to go to the Captain and give him my thanks."

"No, you shouldn't do that. He's very busy right now. Come back inside." He led her back into her cabin, glancing down the hallway before he shut the door.

"Stone, this is ridiculous. The man saved my son's life! Why is he hiding from me?"

"I don't have an answer for you Christine", he said desperately. "He has his reasons I'm sure."

She regarded his expression with suspicion. "You're keeping something from me."

"Christine, leave the Captain alone. He doesn't want to see you." His voice had taken on an edge, a warning tone.

"As you wish," she relented. At once he realized that he didn't believe her. With a sigh of resignation he picked up the breakfast tray and left.

It bothered her all day and into the night. She kept herself busy with the sewing and with Charles. Several times he had asked when the Captain was going to come and see him. She told him that the man had duties to catch up on and that he would see him once his tasks were complete.

Having finally made up her mind, Christine told her son, "I am going to go and see the Captain after you have fallen asleep tonight. I will tell him that you wish to see him."

Charles's reaction surprised her, "Don't go see him Mama. You won't like him."

"What are you talking about Charles? Why wouldn't I like him?"

Charles looked uncomfortable with the question that she had posed. She didn't want to upset her son, but couldn't believe that he too was against her meeting the man. She gentled her tone and said, "I will like him fine. You'll see. Now get some rest, little man." He remained quiet and closed his eyes, apparently not willing to tell her why she wouldn't like the Captain.

She looked at her image in the mirror, staring into her own brown eyes. _Don't be afraid, Christine. He's only a man_. She took several deep breaths and decided it was now or never.

As she reached for the doorknob her son whispered, "You won't like his mask, Mama. You don't like masks remember?"

Her hand froze in halfway to the door. Every part of her body had gone numb except for her stomach. She felt very clearly the pit that was in her stomach from fear.

_It is not Erik. He's dead! _She screamed inside of her mind.

Stone's earlier question came back to her. _How do you know? S_he didn't know for sure, she only believed it because Raoul wanted her to. Just as he had wanted her to believe that there was no Phantom. Just as he had wanted her to believe that Erik wouldn't take her if she performed his opera. He had been wrong those times. She remembered the back of the man she had seen in the hallway, the stories the man had told her son, the dream that wasn't a dream that she had the night before. And she knew Raoul had been wrong again.

_It can't be possible_. She realized that she couldn't stand anymore. Slowly she sank to the floor in shock. _It can't be possible_.

That was why he didn't want to see her, and why Charles had said that he looked like him. He believed that under the mask, Erik had the same affliction he did. She saw the past few weeks clearly for the first time. She looked at her son who had given in to his exhaustion. He lived because of Erik. Raoul's son owed his life to the man who would have killed his father.

As suddenly as she came to this realization, another thought came to her. _He is using Charles to get to me!_ He would use the boy as leverage to make her submit to him once and for all. It explained his eager fondness of the boy and why he went to such great pains to save his life. He was after her again.

Fear was replaced with anger, and with purpose she got to her feet. Without any thought she flew down the passage to his door and ripped it open. The room was deserted.

If there had been any doubts before, they were gone for good as she examined his room. From the black velvet coverlet and blood red pillows on his bed, to the clutter all around her, this room screamed Erik. From the corner of her eye, she saw the music box with the figure of the monkey on top. His gaze was mocking her, calling her a fool for not knowing the truth sooner. She approached his desk and examined the numerous papers that littered the top. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she looked at the familiar handwriting, moving pieces to reveal those underneath.

Her back was to the open door, so she didn't see him enter the room. He had known even before reaching the doorway that she had discovered the truth. Both the door to his cabin and hers stood open. Moving down the hall, he had closed her room up and proceeded to the final threshold.

He stood there in the archway letting his eyes wander over her form. She was wearing a dark blue, velvet dress without frills of any sort. Her hair was gathered at the nape of her neck and hung down her back.

He cursed himself a fool for believing that they would be able to cross the Atlantic without confrontation. It had been inevitable, hadn't it? Fate had brought her to seek out passage in Le Havre the very same night that his first mate had departed the ship to buy a box of truffles for his wife. They were to set sail the following day. Had she been one day later, she would be on someone else's ship. But she hadn't been a day later, and she was here now to play her part in fate's cruel drama.

He hesitated no longer and entered the cabin. When he closed the door with a click, her head lifted, but she remained with her back to him. Using his reprimanding tone that she had been so accustomed to many years ago, he inquired, "Did I not instruct that you were to remain in your cabin?"


	8. Old Wounds

_A/N: Here we go… _

**Ch. 8 – Old Wounds**

Using his reprimanding tone that she had been so accustomed to many years ago, he inquired, "Did I not instruct that you were to remain in your cabin?"

At the sound of his voice she closed her eyes. She did not yet trust herself to speak. She felt him closing the gap between them and suddenly he was directly behind her. "Curiosity killed the cat, Christine."

Opening her eyes, she inclined her head toward him and calmly said, "You are threatening me?"

He was pleased with her response; she had grown up and learned to defend herself. "Never would I threaten you, my dear. I was merely reminded of that phrase as I entered and saw you." When she made no move to turn or speak he asked, "Your son is well today?"

"Yes, thanks to you. He has asked after you several times." She could feel her control slipping as he stood behind her silently. Her rage was bubbling up to the surface, and before she could stop, she spun around and faced him with anger in her eyes. "Why are you doing this to me again?"

"I have done nothing to you Christine. I had intended that you would never know I was the captain of this ship."

"Were that true, you wouldn't have spent every day winning over my son's heart and mind. You were using him to get to me, admit it."

"You flatter yourself. The boy is merely good companionship and I could not help but feel compassion for his…affliction? I would imagine that when he was born, his face came as quite the unpleasant shock to you both. A daily reminder of the past."

"Now it is you who flatter yourself."

"Tell me Christine, did you think that God had marked Charles to remind you of the man that you had cast aside without a thought?"

"Do you really believe that? That I never gave you a thought? Until this evening, I mourned you everyday for the last seven years!"

"You lie. You lived your storybook romance with your prince. A good princess would never darken her thoughts to think on the monster that had been vanquished by her fair love."

"I assume that you already know that Raoul has died, and I will not lead you to believe that our marriage was not a happy one at times." Erik winced at that statement. "But do not assume that you know the heart that beats inside of my chest and its desires. How can you forget all of the years that we shared before Raoul came to the Opera?"

"You forgot them easily enough once he was there!"

"I was a child! Your deceit frightened me. I had thought that I could trust you, that you were there to take the place of my father. But when you revealed yourself to be a flesh and blood man who desired me, I was overwhelmed and felt betrayed."

"You ran from my face. You couldn't bear to consider a creature worthy of your love."

"Erik you are deluded!" she shouted with a laugh.

"What did you call me?" He asked incredulously.

"I only spoke your given name. Or would you prefer I continued to call you Angel? Master perhaps?"

"How did you learn my name? Was it Stone?" He could not believe that his first mate would betray him so boldly.

"Raoul had you investigated and your name was uncovered along the way. Does it truly matter?"

A satisfied grin crossed his face, "Investigated you say? He was nervous that I would re-emerge in your lives? Take you from him again?"

"We both thought of the possibility. But you didn't come for me."

"When I let you go Christine, I gave up all hope of ever having you for myself. And despite what we both know to be my true nature, I wished you and your Vicomte every happiness. If I had wanted you unhappy, I would have accepted your kiss and forced you to stay with me."

"Your noble act touches me," she said sarcastically.

"So it seems that each time I have tried to act with your interest at heart, I have served only to incur your wrath. First the night of Don Juan and now by saving your son."

"I have never forgiven you. Even as I missed you in my heart, I couldn't forgive your actions."

"For what I did to your precious husband?" he spat out.

"For never giving me the opportunity to choose you of my own free will!"

"What?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You manipulated every situation. You lied, you killed, you controlled my very thoughts but you never let me just love you. Even at the end, you held Raoul's life over my head to force me to stay with you. Would it not have been so much sweeter had I come to you because I wanted you?"

"I was a pathetic fool, you're right. But you cannot stand here and say that you would have chosen me over perfection. Even I am not that much of a fool."

"Now we shall never know." Sadness was etched in her face as she moved to the opposite side of the room. "Please Erik, I beg you not to use my son against me. He is all I have left in this world."

"Your son is not a pawn in some game that I am playing. I will not bring darkness into your life again Christine."

"I don't trust you." She had made an unwitting mistake; the words seemed to trigger his rage. Like a panther, he streaked across the room and grabbed her by the arms and pulled her face to within inches of his own.

"You have been on this ship for three weeks and I have not even laid eyes on your _face_ until last night. If I were not worthy of your trust, believe me, my meddling first mate would have been found hanging in his stateroom, my hated enemy's son would have been tossed to the sharks and you, my dear, would have finally eased the lust in my heart that I have carried for the last… seven… years." His final three words were said with emphasis, as he paused between each one.

Electricity was shooting through her body as his raw passion for her was evident in his entire being. She was instantly ashamed at her response to him. He had just threatened the life of her friend and her son, but all she could think of was the threat to her body. She had felt this way the night of Don Juan. No matter right or wrong, a part of her responded to him. A part of her that had lay dormant since that night and was now reawakening. Her love for Raoul had always been based on security and companionship and idealism. But, as much as she wanted to deny it, she loved Erik too, and this love was based on passion and music and kinship. They had rescued each other from loneliness so long ago, forging a bond between them. That bond had been broken through his lies and her betrayal.

That fateful night there had been only one way to break his spell and regain her wits. Sensing her thoughts, as she raised her hand he grabbed her wrist, "You will not strip me of my dignity this time! Do you miss my horrid face or are you curious to see if it is still as gruesome as you remember?" He pushed her from him, disgusted with himself and his behavior. _How does she do this to me_, he wondered. He lost all self-control when she was around; all sense of propriety was forgotten. He was reduced to animal instincts and his need for her acceptance caused him to forgo rational thought of right and wrong.

"I hate you." She whispered.

"We have something in common then as I have made self-loathing into somewhat of an art form." He picked up the closest thing at hand, a glass paperweight, and hurled it at the wall. She stared up at him, tears falling unhindered. The pain in the room was palpable.

After long moments of silence, he finally had regained control enough to speak, "There is no need for you to be sequestered any longer. Now that my latest deception has been uncovered, you are free to roam the ship at will." His eyes had been fixed on a point above her head, and now he lowered his gaze to hers, his eyes filled with despair. "I beg you Christine, if you catch sight of me, please turn and walk the other way. The very sight of you is torture to my soul."

She rose to her feet and walked to the door. Her heart was aching for him, and at the same time fearing him. Before she left, she dealt the killing blow, "Do not attempt to see my son again outside of my presence." Before he could respond, she exited.

Once outside of his room with the door shut, she doubled over, falling to her knees. Uncontrollable sobs wracked her slight frame. Stone had heard them shouting earlier and had kept an eye out in the hallway in case she had needed his assistance. Now, he moved silently to her and lifted her to her feet. Slipping an arm around her shoulders he steered her back to her cabin and helped her inside. Closing her door, he stood stock still in the passage and listened as his Captain destroyed everything that he put his hands on in his quarters.

_A/N: Please review after reading. I had a tough time with this chapter and would love to hear your thoughts on it._


	9. Tempest

_A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews. I'm glad to know that you all shared in my pain of the last chapter. But never fear, I believe that E and C are truly in love. And one of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies is "This is true love - you think this happens every day?"_

**Ch. 9 – Tempest**

Matching the mood aboard the Fereshteh, within an hour's time of Christine's return to her cabin, the ship began to pitch violently. They had sailed into a torrential rainstorm. Christine could hear shouts outside of the cabin as the men hurried up on deck to weather the tempest. Stone stopped by her cabin to tell her to remain there before going topside. "Things are going to get rough while we ride this bluster out. You stay here safely inside." Seeing her swollen eyes and tear streaked face he added, "Every storm eventually calms, Christine."

After he had left she set about securing some of the items within the cabin. She used some of the men's clothing that had yet to be mended, to tie down loose items that had begun to slide about the room. Charles awoke after a clap of thunder that shook the very walls. He looked frightened and Christine sat on his cot, pulled him into her lap and held him. She realized that, while she meant to comfort him, the contact was actually helping to soothe the ache in her heart.

"What is happening Mama?"

"We have sailed into a storm, love. We will sail out of it again." She thought of him then. He was, no doubt, up on deck fighting the storm along with his men. She was afraid for him right now and hoped that despite the state that she had left him in, he was being cautious. She prayed that his anger did not make him reckless. _What is he doing commanding a ship_, she wondered. She hadn't asked him, it had not crossed her mind until now. It had been inconsequential.

A knock on the door roused her out of the thoughts. Without asking who was knocking, she swung the barrier open to find a large, red haired man on the other side. He was dripping wet, and, as his eyes settled on her; he gave her a sweeping glance from her head to her bare toes. He swiped a fist over his mouth, his eyes still boring into her and said, "Beg your pardon miss, sorry to disturb you and little Charlie there. Captain asked me to come and get you. He wants you moved to a more secure location during the storm."

Something in the man's eyes bothered Christine. He was looking at her like a man in the desert would look at an oasis. She knew that Erik would not have sent a man that she didn't know to move her and her son. He would have sent Stone to see to them. Then she considered further, _Unless he had a greater need for Stone up on deck, then he would send a subordinate_. After what had transpired between them a few hours ago, she did not want to blatantly disobey his instructions, if they _were_ his instructions. It would be foolish if their lives were in danger and she had allowed her pride to cloud her judgment.

"If I could just have a moment to fetch a wrap and Charles's blanket?" She asked.

"Sure miss, whatever you think you'll be needing." He leaned against the doorframe lazily as if there were no hurry.

Curious as to his behavior, her suspicions of the man deepened. "You say the Captain wants us moved to a more secure location? Where would that be?"

"Oh, there's a storage room that is situated more in the middle of the ship. I'm sure he wants you to be as safe as you can be." Perusing her form again he said, "We all figured there was a lady on board. We've seen Charlie up on deck, but not you. It would have been a pleasant distraction."

Once again she found herself feeling very uncomfortable with the man's attentions. She was about to tell the man that she would like for the Captain to come and move them himself, when she heard a familiar voice. "Harcourt, what are you doing at Madam de Chagny's door?"

Stone had just entered the passage and was shocked to see the crewman. "All hands are to be up on deck. You did not have permission to come below!" He glanced inside her room and saw her clutching Charles's hand and a blanket. "What is this, man? Where were you taking them?"

"Captain told me to move them to the interior storeroom for their safety." Harcourt answered without missing a beat.

Stone knew instantly that the man was lying, but rather that risk a confrontation, he said, "Apparently the Captain has changed his mind then. He has instructed that Madame de Chagny and her son are to remain here in their cabin through the storm. You are needed topside, Mr. Harcourt. I suggest you move along."

Stone watched the man walk confidently down the passage and mount the stairs. He turned back to Christine and closed her door. "What did he say to you?" he asked looking worried.

"Just the same that he told you. That Erik had commanded him to move us to a more secure location. He was lying wasn't he?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. His name is Harcourt. We picked him up in Le Havre. He had come recommended by some of the others, but he has caused a few problems on board before this. What could he have been thinking? He couldn't have gotten away with it!"

Christine could guess what the man's intentions had been and shuddered to think of how close she had just come to putting herself and her son in danger again. Angry, she spat out, "Are there no men left on this Earth that can be trusted?"

Stone felt that she was referring to his giving her the drugged tea and uncomfortably lowered his gaze in embarrassment.

"I didn't mean you Stone, I just can't believe this! I am in danger at every turn."

Remembering Apollos's reaction to his earlier revelations, he asked, "Did the captain threaten you? Are you in danger from him?"

"No. Erik would never harm me." She was shocked at her own confidence in that statement, but realized it was true. She laughed morbidly then as another thought struck her, "We manage to hurt ourselves enough."

"The Captain will be livid when he hears of Harcourt's actions. That man may not complete this voyage!"

She agreed with that statement. Erik would make the man pay dearly for his boldness.

"I figure he thought to find out if the rumors were true about there being a woman onboard while the rest of us were busy with the storm. He knew that everyone was going to be occupied up top for most of the night. Sick bastard!" Stone didn't want to think of what could have happen had he not come down to check on Christine. He dreaded the eventual moment when he would tell the Captain about this incident.

Knowing that he had to return to assist the crew, he turned to Christine and said, "Keep this door locked and don't let anyone but the Captain or myself in. I will keep Harcourt in my sights from now on."

"When will you tell Erik?" She too was fearful of Erik's revenge on the man. She had no concern for this man Harcourt. His deeds merited the worst sort of justice, but she hated that because of her, Erik would once again be thrust into the hell of his own fury.

"As soon as the storm has passed. He has enough to deal with right now." Leaving the room, he paused in the hall to hear her deadbolt slide into place and then continued up and into the blinding rain.

The gales had continued on into the night and part of the morning. When at last the waters lay calm, the crewmen returned to their cabins to strip out of their raingear and soaked clothing. As Erik returned to his cabin, he looked at the damage that he had caused the night before. Papers, broken glass and unidentifiable fragments littered the floor. He had been grateful for the storm, it had helped him to work off his anger. He had exhausted his body and not had a second to think of what had transpired between himself and Christine. The destruction of his room was a bleak reminder. Waves of hurt threatened to retake him, but he suppressed the urge to give into them. He still had a lifetime to wallow in his misery and self-pity, for now he needed rest.

After removing his slicker and boots, he divested himself of a drenched shirt and pants. After toweling off his body he pulled on a pair of lounging pants and replaced his mask. He hadn't worn it up on deck, knowing that the rain and wind would have made it impossible for him to keep it in place. The men had gotten used to his face. Most sailors had seen various horrors throughout their lives and his face was no where near as grotesque to them as it was to the average person.

That had been one of the many reasons that he had decided on this career. He could remember leaving the opera house, not knowing what would become of him. He had traveled by night to the coast and joined a crew onboard a cargo freighter much like this one. He had longed to put distance between France and himself. Soon after the voyage had begun, he found that life on the sea suited him. No one cared or was bothered by his mask, most never even commented on it. When his face had been exposed by accident, he was shocked to find that the men went about their business as if nothing had occurred at all. Feeling at ease with his appearance for the first time in his life, he engrossed himself in learning the ins and outs of the shipping business. He had served most every position on board, never satisfied with only knowing something part way. The Captain that he had answered to had been supportive of his eager crewman, passing on his knowledge and eventually encouraging Erik to purchase his own ship. Two years after his first crossing, he had earned enough wages, combined with the salary that he had taken from the Opera, that he was able to purchase a small freighter.

That ship he had christened the Amnita, after the heroine in his Don Juan. Stone had been recruited within that first year of his commanding the Amnita, and the two had remained together ever since. Finding crew was easy enough, but finding trustworthy sailors was another. Stone had proved himself time and again to be a loyal first mate. As Erik grew to know the man, he found that he couldn't understand his desire to continue to sail for months on end when he had a loving wife and beautiful family waiting for him. If he had been blessed with a normal life, nothing could keep him from it.

After three more years, the Amnita was retired and he purchased the beautiful, large vessel that he now commanded. He had named it Fereshteh, knowing that only those who spoke Farsi, the language native to Persia, would translate its meaning, Angel.

His desire for a true home had become more and more burning with each passing year. Eventually, he purchased a house and some land outside of Charleston in America. He loved the landscape in Carolina, despite the ever growing city, the land still felt untouched. Whenever he was able to return to his house, he felt that he was as far from Paris as was possible.

His enthusiasm and evident love for America had rubbed off on Stone, and he had encouraged his friend to bring his family across the Atlantic to settle in the foreign land. Stone's formidable wife, Maura and his rambunctious children had been the first passengers allowed on board. Despite the complete turmoil that they had caused during the crossing, Erik loved the opportunity to watch a happy family interact. He loved to watch the children with their father, desperately wishing that somehow he would be granted this beautiful miracle in his own life. When they had landed and Maura had settled her brood into their home, the Fereshteh set sail once again, leaving behind the wonderful domesticity that he had come to cherish.

That had been a year ago, and he had since grown tired of Stone's apparent lack of appreciation for the gift that he had been granted. His relationship with the man had soured slightly as his jealousy took root. Each time that Stone returned to embark on the next voyage, Erik found himself cursing the man for his foolish arrogance.

He knew that he had been harsh with Stone today and regretted it deeply. Despite how Erik felt about Stone's decision to continue to sail, it was not his place to question the other man's motivations. He had let his own discontentment spoil the only friendship that he had cultivated in his lifetime. Now it was most likely ruined beyond repair much like the objects in his cabin.

As Erik lamented his actions toward Stone, the other man was steeling his courage for the inevitable discussion that he was to have with his Captain regarding Harcourt. He had watched the red-haired man retire to his cabin and now felt that it was safe to let down his guard and abandon his surveillance for the time being. He was torn between allowing the Captain to rest and getting the deed over with. Finally reaching the conclusion that he would not be able to find rest himself, he went Apollos's room.

Erik wrapped himself in a black silk robe and answered the door. His recent thoughts of Stone caused him

to feel discomfited as he was faced with the man.

Before he could speak, Stone stared in shock at the state of the room. He composed himself and spoke, "Sir, there is a matter that I have to address with you."

"Before you do Stone, I feel the need to apologize about last night. There is no excuse for my actions toward you. I acted savagely and I hope that in time, you will forgive my despicable behavior."

Stone was not used to seeing his commander humble himself to anyone. He was surprised, but also proud that the Captain valued him enough to demote himself. "I don't pass judgment on you Captain. You have to wrestle your demons on your own. I just hope that you will consider me an ally and not a threat in the future."

"Thank you, Stone." Relieved, he prompted the man to get on with his reason for the visit.

"It pains me to no end to give you this report, so brace yourself Captain. That man Harcourt that we enlisted in Le Havre? Well, while the rest of us were topside during the storm, he approached Madame de Chagny."

Erik's face hardened instantly and fire was visible in his eyes. "Was she harmed?"

"No, I had set out to check on her when I found him on her doorstep. He had told her that you meant for her to be moved to a safer location." Moments ago Erik had shown his human side. That side was no longer present. Stone knew without a doubt that Harcourt was about to meet his demise unless he could convince Erik to mete out a more humane punishment.

"Captain, I know what you are intending, but I beg you to consider a lashing. You don't want to give in to your lust for revenge with Christine on board. She would appreciate your showing some restraint."

He knew Stone was right, Christine would not want him to kill again because of her. She valued life, even the life of the most vile creatures that walked the Earth, including himself. A lashing was the usual form of punishment onboard a ship, and it almost always served as a suitable deterrent.

"Rouse the men and call all hands on deck. This matter will be dealt with immediately."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Christine slept fitfully, exhausted from the events that had taken place the previous night. She was not aware that on the floor above her, a man was tied to the mainmast, receiving forty lashes at the hand of her avenging Angel.


	10. The Light Of Day

_A/N: Our beloved couple is truly in torment here, self-inflicted I might add. The fools! Thanks for the reviews, I'm still addicted to your comments. BTW, the quote was from "The Princess Bride". If you haven't seen it, rent it. And if you haven't seen it since the 80's, see it again. It's much funnier the older you get._

**Ch. 10 – The Light Of Day**

Charles was restless in the ship's cabin after having been confined for over a week following his illness. Christine knew that he was fit enough to return to his normal routine, but she was stubbornly determined to keep him from Erik as per her final words that fateful night. The first couple of days after the "night of the storms", as she referred to it in her mind, Charles was still a bit sluggish and she was able to convince him that he needed to stay in their room and rest. Her bitterness and her bruised pride were still feeding her anger in those early days, but now time had cooled her fervor and she was painfully aware that what she had meant to use as a punishment for Erik was in fact a punishment for her son, the only innocent in this situation.

"Mama, why can't I go fishing today? I'm not sick anymore." His tone was uncharacteristically defiant. Her son had always been a good, obedient child. That was when she had been a mother who showed fairness in her decisions. She knew she was not being fair to him, and she knew that he didn't understand it. Desperately trying to think of a solution that would allow her son to have his way and allow her pride not to take a hit, she remembered Erik's words, she was free to roam the ship. She could take Charles topside and watch over him, thus if Erik made an appearance, she would be present.

"You shall fish today, Charles!" she exclaimed, almost as excited at her realization as he was at her decision. "As soon as Stone comes to pick up our breakfast tray, I shall make the arrangements." She didn't want to just appear on deck for the first time since they had set out unaccompanied. The men would no doubt be distracted by her presence. Stone had informed her this morning that Harcourt had been dealt with and was suspended from duty for several weeks. She had been skeptical when he told her, raising an eyebrow in question. But he assured her that the Captain had curbed his desire for the man's death and had administered a fair and deserving punishment for his disobedience. Since the suspension meant he was confined to his cabin, she did not have to fear running into the red-haired man. She only had to fear running into the ebony-haired one.

Stone questioned her logic when she told him her intentions a little while later. She recalled Erik's words to him, releasing her from her imprisonment, and then agreed to wait while he checked with the Captain for his approval. Nervously she paced the room, all the while listening to her son happily chatter that he was finally going to go outside again. She knew that if Erik had changed his mind and did not allow her to accompany Charles, she would let the boy go without her. She couldn't disappoint him now that his hopes were up and she found herself feeling guilty each time that her son mentioned seeing his friend, the Captain.

Stone returned to the room a few moments later. He appeared worried.

"Was he angry that I wanted to leave the cabin? What did he say?" She knew that she sounded over anxious and realized that she just wanted to hear some news of how Erik was faring.

When Stone had asked Erik whether he had given permission for Christine to emerge, the Captain had showed the briefest sign of excitement followed immediately by a stoic calm. He had nodded his assent and continued on with his task at hand, working with the navigator plotting a course that would help them to avoid another storm.

"The Captain is allowing you to leave the cabin, but, are you sure Christine?" Stone was concerned about her showing herself and causing the Captain more misery. As it was, Erik had barely eaten or slept since their last meeting, but he dismissed Stone's worries citing that there were many things that were on his mind, not just the woman.

Christine nodded, knowing what Stone was asking. Was she sure that she and Erik could be in such close proximity to one another without an incident? The crew had to be considered as the rumors were already a problem. "I will behave myself if he will," she quipped playfully.

Stone led them up the stairs exposing Christine to sunlight for the first time in three weeks. She closed her eyes as they had to adjust to the brightness, and allowed the warmth to fall upon her face. The breeze tossed her hair and caressed her like a lost love. Without even seeing her surroundings, she felt a sense of peace and contentment for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime.

Though she had not yet seen the men on the deck, they all had seen her. Each crewman's face had turned to look as Stone mounted the stairs, alerted by the little boy that burst forth and ran to find the Captain with a happy shout. Some of the men decided upon their first glimpse of Christine that she was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen, gazing at her with unhindered adoration. Others did not even try to shield the lust that took hold of them, not having been in close proximity to a woman in such a long time. Surprisingly a few of the men seemed to regard her with an open hatred, these men whispering amongst themselves and quickly hiding their expressions lest someone notice.

But only one man did not look at her, could not look at her. His eyes only watched the tow-head boy run to him and, without thinking he caught Charles and lifted him up, swinging him in an arc. It had been days since his face had registered any emotion, but now he found he was grinning broadly. He had missed the boy terribly and apparently, the feeling had been mutual.

Charles's giggle as he was spun around caused Christine to open her eyes and search out her son. The sight that she beheld stopped her heart. Her eyes instantly swam with tears and a heaviness settled in her chest. Erik was magnificent. She wondered if he had ever looked this good. He wore black trousers with black boots and a white shirt that was unbuttoned at the collar. The sun gleamed off of the white mask giving him an ethereal glow about his head. She knew she had never seen him in full daylight and realized that it was as beautiful a sight as Erik in darkness lit only by the glow of a candle.

The most wonderful thing about his appearance, the thing that had taken her breath away, was his smiling face. He was looking at her son with unbridled happiness and Charles was a mirror of that joy. Despite the fact that Erik's features were dark, his hair jet black, and her son was blonde with a light complexion, anyone who saw them would have thought they were father and son by their fondness of each other. _How could I have punished them like I did_, she thought. Charles had spent most of his life never knowing a father and Erik of course did not have a son or a father. Yet here they were, Charles was standing on the deck talking animatedly and Erik had squatted down to be on his eye level, completely giving the boy his enraptured attention. Had circumstances been different she could have been looking at her family.

She allowed the tears to fall from her eyes, crying for the unfairness of it all. It had been unfair that Raoul had been taken from them, unfair that Charles barely remembered his father, unfair that Erik had never been given a child of his own, and unfair that Christine now stood wishing that she was beholding her husband and not her beloved enemy. She was filled with guilt for disrespecting the memory of her husband. She would not have traded the years as his wife; he had been a caring partner, always concerned for her well being, conscientious and even accepting of her past with Erik. How dare she soil what they had shared with her thoughts of the man that had tried to come between them all those years ago!

As that last thought rang in her head, Erik's eyes met hers and held her stare - her face, one of sadness and beauty, his face one of torture and longing. The moment ended as Charles tugged on the man's shirt to gain his attention.

Once the eye contact was broken, she turned to survey her surroundings. She remembered the ship being large from the night that they had come on board, but her memory seemed to be failing her as she found the vast expanse overwhelming now. She raised her eyes to look at the sails against the blue backdrop of the sky then lowered them again to see the sapphire ocean beyond the railing. Men bustled around the deck performing their various tasks, while overhead a few climbed up rope ladders and maneuvered their way in the rigging bringing back to her mind the men who had worked the flies at the theater. She remembered Joseph Buquet and his fate at Erik's hands. Shuddering, she pushed the image from her mind. Her thoughts were of the dead much too much today.

As each man hurried past her, she heard them mutter, "Ma'am" out of respect for her presence. After awhile she noticed a few of the men hurrying up to Charles to slap him on the back or just say hello. Her son, it appeared, had been popular among the crewmen. Eventually, the boy ran across the wooden planks to join his mother. Stone had already prepared his fishing pole and Charles was giddy as he cast his first line. Christine smiled at his euphoria and accepted a chair to sit upon and watch her son in his blissful state.

He strode the deck as he did each day, answering questions, lending his expertise, supervising the men. This day however he found his mind and his eyes constantly wandering to the starboard side of the vessel. He had never known that when the sunlight illuminated her dark hair, a red glow lit her tresses giving her the appearance of a goddess. He had never seen her mother her son and was delighted with the ease to which she had assumed the role. She found delight in Charles and it was apparent as she hung on his every word and gazed at him with a soft expression of love. _How many times can this woman break my heart_, he wondered. He pictured himself walking over to stand behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder as she looked up at him with devotion and pride. He would lower his mouth to cover hers, ignoring the stares of the crew and the amused look on their son's face…

Viciously he ripped himself away from the fantasy with a growl. He had had enough, and signaled to Stone that he was going below deck. As the first mate assumed command, he watched Erik descend the stairway. Christine had also noticed him leaving the quarter-deck, and felt a chill as he went below. There had been a moment, at some point that she couldn't quite put her finger on, where she had felt a serenity. Now all she could feel was an emptiness that had opened up the moment he had removed himself from her vicinity.


	11. The Fragile Rose

_A/N: I was in a good mood tonight and decided to put up another chapter. However, you have to take the good with the bad, since this is a horrible cliffhanger. Sorry, loyal fans. _

**Ch. 11 – The Fragile Rose**

As the days turned into weeks, the men onboard the Fereshteh grew accustomed to Christine's presence. Most were extremely kind to her, falling over backward to bring her a chair or a cup of water. But, much to her growing frustration, it seemed that each time she would appear, Erik would take his leave shortly after. She sarcastically hoped that his duties weren't neglected because of her, but felt sure that he would have let her know if that were the case. Dryly she thought, P_erhaps he would have written me a note_.

She was growing wearisome of his game of avoidance; her anger now subsided for the moment. She wished that he would speak to her just once as a means of acknowledging her. She knew that her feelings for him were flighty and ever-changing. One moment she wished that she still lived with the belief that he were dead, the next she felt the urge to run to him, throwing herself at his feet and begging him to forgive her just so that he would hold her. Several times she had considered doing just that, only in a less dramatic fashion. But she found that she held doubt in her heart, not confident that his reaction would be the one that she expected. So many things had changed and the one conversation they had shared did nothing to encourage her that Erik still loved her as he had before her desertion.

Sometimes she would dare to believe that God had brought her here, to Erik on purpose. That Erik was meant to be the savior that she and Charles needed. If anyone could protect them from what she was running from, it was he. She had stopped herself from going to him and telling of her plight several times, knowing that if she did, he would help them out of obligation. She would be binding him to them, selfishly keeping him from making his own choice. If he chose to help them, she did not want him to do it based on his sense of chivalry, but based on his heart. Otherwise, it would be no better than what he had done to her.

In truth, Erik had taken to abandoning his post each time she emerged from below decks because he couldn't stand the sight of his men being able to speak to her and look on her without fear of being noticed. Each time she bestowed a smile or a laugh on one of the crew, it was a knife in his heart. It was a reminder that he was not worthy of her.

Because he was dodging her most of the days, Erik had taken to completing his inspections at night knowing that she would not be present. Another result was that he was not able to spend as much time with Charles as he would have liked. Sensing that this was part of the cause of his frustrations, Stone had talked to Christine about allowing Charles to visit the Captain in his quarters for a luncheon. She gave her permission, knowing that her son was also going through withdrawal from not being able to spend time with his hero.

The accuracy of her decision was apparent when the boy returned to her hours later, boisterous and silly. She envied him the time that he was able to spend with Erik with no preconceived notions of the man's intentions. "Captain Apollos said to tell you happy birthday, Mama and give you this." He handed her a rose that was made of paper dipped in red ink. "Is it your birthday Mama?"

She stared at the paper flower incredulously. He had remembered her birthday, she had not. "Yes, little man, your Mama is twenty-seven years old today." That would make Erik about forty-three she calculated. As an after-thought she forced herself to remember Raoul, he would have been thirty-one next month.

"I didn't get you a present. I'm sorry Mama." Smiling at her son's wonderful compassion for others, she soothed him by suggesting that he draw her a picture as her present. Encouraged, he set off to create a masterpiece.

She turned the flower between her fingers musing on Erik's possible meaning. Was this a peace offering, finally? Or was he merely giving her a gift out of propriety? Something that he prided himself on was his etiquette. He may never be able to look like an acceptable member of society, but he could act as one better than any nobleman.

He had remembered her birthday, it meant something to him. She decided then and there, before the night was over, she would go to him again and she would present him with an apology. She would finally give him the gratitude that he deserved for all that he had done for them. Then she would wait to see what he would say. If he sent her away again in anger, she would at the very least be safe in the knowledge that she attempted to make amends.

Happy with her decision, she began to rummage through her meager belongings to find her very best dress. It was nowhere near the standard of fashion, in fact it was quite drab. There were a few loose stitches and the material had become pilly because of its age and the number of washings that it had gone through. She tried to use her new found skills as a seamstress to repair and make some improvements to the garment. Once she had done all that she could with it, she stepped behind the dividing screen and put it on. In order to quell the butterflies that had begun to float in her stomach, she busied herself in front of the mirror, putting up her hair into a loose chignon, applying a bit of rouge and generally trying to improve upon what Erik would consider the perfection of her appearance.

Suddenly, she heard a man yelling for help. She pressed her ear to the door, not wanting to open it in case there was danger, but only heard several sets of running footsteps in the hallway heading for the stairs. She hoped that whatever was happening, no one was hurt. She wished that she could be of some assistance, but knew that more than likely she would only serve to get in the way if there were any real trouble. She returned to her makeshift vanity of the desk chair pulled in front of the mirror to finish her preparations, wondering if Erik was involved in whatever was happening up top.

Her thoughts left her mind the instant she heard someone pounding savagely on her door. Instinct told her not to open the portal and she moved to Charles. The pounding was becoming more threatening and she feared that any moment the door would splinter off of its hinges. Whoever was on the other side was determined to gain entrance. Shaking she told Charles to hide under the bed. Just as his head disappeared, the door swung open and thudded against the opposite wall.

Standing on her doorstep was Harcourt and two other crewmen. She recognized the two men as being very unfriendly to her whenever she was near them up on deck. Now she knew why, apparently they were the redhead's friends.

Stepping into the cabin and closing the door behind them, one of the men moved a chair under the doorknob securing it from the inside while Harcourt closed the distance between himself and Christine. "No one to save you this time, bitch. My men made sure that the freak captain and his lap dog will be occupied for sometime with a fire in the galley. You are going to pay for the pain you caused me."

He made a gesture at his accomplices and they grabbed Christine by her arms, pulling her spread eagle. Harcourt approached her with a sick and deadly gleam in his eye and before she could scream, he reached forward and tore the front of her dress. Fixing his hungry gaze on her flesh, he growled low in his throat, "Oh yeah, you're gonna pay."

_A/N: You are not happy with me right now are you? Leave a review, I love reactions to cliffies!_


	12. The Phantom's Fury

_A/N: Ok, cliffhanger over. This chapter was another one I had difficulty writing. I thought that people would think I was a sicko with the violence. That is your warning, this chapter does have some graphic violence. But some of you seem to be looking for it, so here it is._

**Ch. 12 – The Phantom's Fury**

The fire was almost under control as Erik pulled another of his crewman away from the smoke-filled room. They were dropping like flies from the heat and smoke inhalation. They were lucky that the fire had begun near the pantry and not near the stove or else this could have been the final voyage of the Fereshteh. He was suspicious as to the cause of the fire and was beginning to think that it had been started deliberately. His fears were confirmed as Stone pulled the cook out from inside the pantry, which had been locked. The man had been stabbed, proving that this was no accident.

The cook had been fortunate that his injuries were not fatal and he was conscious when Stone laid him at the Captain's feet. "Who did this to you?" Erik asked.

Coughing the man managed to utter, "It was Jules and Alexander."

Erik looked at Stone who had gone sheet white. "Captain, those are Harcourt's men!" Realizing that the fire was meant as a distraction, he said, "Christine."

Before Stone could say another word, Erik was gone. He flew right past her cabin door and into his own. As if in a trance, he equipped himself with the items that he would need to exact vengeance tonight. He was eerily calm, white hot fury always had done that to him. He considered that he might be too late, fueling his need for blood even further.

When he approached her door, he found the knob would not turn. He broke through the barrier with ease and took in the sight that met his eyes. Christine was tied to the bedposts, arms akimbo. Her head lolled below her shoulders, hair hanging around her face so that he couldn't see whether she was conscious or not. Harcourt stood behind her, pulling up her skirts. The other two men were apparently enjoying the show, waiting for their turn. The men froze the moment Erik burst in. He withdrew a long knife from his belt and plunged it into Jules' heart with lightning speed. Before the man hit the floor, Erik had removed the blade and slashed Alexander's throat.

Harcourt knew he was looking at the Angel of Death himself. There was no emotion behind the double murder that he had just witnessed. The Captain's eyes were boring into his own and seemed to be daring the man to make a move. In desperation the red haired man had backed himself into a corner. Erik was relieved to see that the man's trousers were half-buttoned, he hadn't been too late to stop the rape. But this man had crossed him twice now, trying to take something that was precious to him. His fate was sealed and his death would be merciless.

Erik slowly approached the other man like a predator stalking his prey. He ducked as Harcourt threw everything that was within his reach at him. Reaching into his coat, he produced his trademark Punjab lasso. The other man's eyes grew wide at the appearance of the noose. He tried to run past Erik in a last ditch attempt to get away, but as he did, the lasso was thrown around his neck and began to tighten.

Erik jerked on the rope just enough to cut off the man's airflow. He wanted him to die slowly and painfully. Harcourt was clutching at the rope around his neck, his face turning blue. He hit his knees and Erik pushed him to the floor with a boot placed to his back. He applied more force to the rope, pulling the man's head back. Despite what was believed in Paris, killing had never brought him pleasure. In the times that he had committed murder, he had felt disconnected from the act as though someone else had done the deed. Not this time though. As he continued to deprive the man of oxygen, he dropped to one knee and hissed in Harcourt's ear, "I should have killed you before when you tried to take what was mine! When we meet again in hell, even the devil himself will not keep me from spending eternity torturing your soul." He gave a last vicious jerk and broke the man's neck.

Still in a haze of hatred and rage, Erik heard a small cry issue from somewhere next to him. He turned his face to find a pair of blue eyes regarding him with terror, peeking out from under the bed. Instantly his head cleared and somehow he managed to tenderly call the boy's name. Charles cowered away from Erik as he reached for him. He had behaved as an inhuman madman and Charles had bore witness to the entire display. Erik was torn apart by what he saw on the boy's face. He wanted to roar and wail to rid himself of this feeling, but he was powerless to do anything.

He rose to his feet and moved to Christine. Standing behind her, he saw for the first time what vile act that Harcourt had performed on her. The back of her dress was ripped in a horizontal pattern with blood soaked through the garment. Harcourt had felt it justice to exact revenge for the punishment that he had received because of Christine. She had been whipped with a lash just as Harcourt had. Erik looked at the dead man at his feet and realized that he wished the man were still alive so he could kill him again.

He knelt upon the mattress of the bed and placed his crooked index finger under Christine's chin, raising her face. Her eyes opened slightly and she regarded him with pain marring her features. A second later, her lids closed and she succumbed once again to the darkness. Gently as a mother caring for a newborn, Erik untied her wrists and pulled her to him, careful not to touch the wounds on her back. He wept then, for the pain that she had suffered and for the boy who had witnessed not only his savagery, but also the brutal attack on his mother.

Stone entered the room a few moments later and looked from Christine's ravaged form, to the corpses on the floor, to Erik's wretched face. "Stone, go to my cupboard and retrieve the brown paste in the jar." Erik's voice was raw, reflecting his mood. As he waited for Stone to return, he began to sing. It was a lullaby that he had heard the gypsy women sing to their babies to comfort them. He hoped that it would reach Charles and help sooth him. He stroked Christine's hair as he sang and deposited kisses along her brow.

When Stone returned with the paste, he helped Erik spread the medicine onto Christine's back and dress her wounds. Erik found her nightgown and dressed her in it quickly. His lust would not be an issue tonight. Upon further inspection, other than raw wrists, she had a bruise starting to show on her right cheek. Apparently the brute had also struck her. Erik had spent his whole life being referred to as a monstrosity, but in truth, the dead men in the room were so much more the loathsome fiends than he had ever been. He would never have harmed an innocent to quench his lust for blood or flesh. These men had been deserving of their fate and he was content to have been the one to mete it out.

Stone had been able to coax Charles out from under the bed and now held the child in his arms. Erik knew better than to try to console him, the boy was terrified of him now. The thought broke his heart once again. They could not sleep in here tonight so he instructed Stone to set up Charles's cot in the mate's own cabin. He didn't think that Charles would be comfortable sleeping in his quarters right now.

Gently he lifted Christine into his arms, shifting her when she winced in pain. He carried her to his own cabin and laid her in his bed on her stomach. Pulling the covers to her waist he left her and found some men to clean up her cabin and dispose of the bodies that lay within it.

He wanted to go to Stone's room and check on Charles, but he resisted and returned to his own quarters. He changed out of the blood-stained clothing and pulled on fresh trousers. Pulling out a chair, he sat himself next to the bed, and looking over at Christine, he was shocked to find her pain filled eyes on him. "What happened?" she whispered weakly.

"You were attacked."

"Where's Charles?"

"He is with Stone. He is not harmed. I will give you some laudanum to help you rest and ease the pain." He rose and moved to retrieve the liquid. Bringing it back to her, he pressed a small spoonful between her lips. Most of the potion dribbled onto his pillow, but he knew that she would not need much to put her out.

He placed the bottle on the table next to the bed and turned back to her. She was still watching him. He leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek slowly. Teardrops fell onto her ear and her hair. "I am so sorry my love," his whispered through his tears as he kissed her temple.

"Erik." She breathed.

"Forgive me?"

"Yes."

She fell into a deep sleep and he lay down next to her in the large bed. He would be there when she woke. He would tell her about Charles and what he had seen. He hoped that she would still forgive him then.

_A/N: I hope you have all forgiven me as well. And the first real tender moment, Yay! Leave a review and let me know what you think, even if you think I AM a sicko._


	13. Love Covers A Multitude Of Sins

_A/N: Thank you for all of the time you each took to review. The reviews on the last chapter were mixed, but I appreciate every single one. Now…Let there be fluff!_

**Ch. 13 – Love Covers A Multitude Of Sins**

As day broke over the horizon, a man and a woman lay in silent repose - his left leg under hers as she was on her stomach, he on his back. Her arm was draped over his bare chest, her head resting on his shoulder. His eyes opened and he smiled as he felt her body next to him. He reached up with his right hand and caressed the limb that lay across him, his fingers leaving goose bumps on her cool flesh. He breathed in her scent. But instead of roses and lavender, he smelled blood and the astringent odor of medicine. Reality set in quickly, the memories of the night before rushing back to him.

He had killed again for the first time in so long. Piangi was the last man to succumb to the Punjab lasso. He had felt deep regret at having to kill the man, but he had been standing in the position that Erik was destined to occupy that night. Sacrifices to conscience had to be made at times.

The men that he had murdered last night would never earn the slightest bit of remorse from him. His actions had been necessary to save the woman that he loved and prevent their brand of scum from walking the planet any further. His only regret was seared into his memory as a pair of wide, blue eyes staring at him in fear. Charles was an unblemished soul that had now been exposed to the vilest truths of the world. Innocence lost. Erik was distressed at the thought as he could not remember a time in his own life when cruelty was not present. He had never had the natural childhood full of naivety that Charles had been blessed to experience. Though he knew that he was blameless for the horror of his mother's abuse, he couldn't help but feel responsible for Charles's exposure to the darkness. It did follow him wherever he went.

Christine stirred, and a whimper of pain escaped her lips. Her open palm ran down his muscled chest sending a shock through his body. He had abandoned all thought of her son the moment she had begun to rouse. Small movements, her bare leg shifting a few inches against his own panted leg, her face turning slightly against his neck almost nuzzling him, her breath warm and caressing on his skin. Had they ever been this close before, he wondered. This intimate?

He dared not move a great deal for fear of breaking the spell of the moment by waking her fully. He turned his head slightly so that his lips found contact with the skin along the edge of her hairline. His only thought at that moment was, L_ove me Christine. Please love me this time._

He knew that the sweet seconds were coming to a close as her eyes fluttered open, her lashes tickling him. Fear gripped his heart as he considered what her reaction might be finding herself in this affectionate position. He waited for her to speak or push him away. Instead she tightened the arm that was encircling him, holding him in a secure embrace. He responded to her by turning on his side to face her more fully, anchoring her body to him with his own strong arm thrown over her waist. He had to remind himself to be careful of the wounds on her back.

She raised her face and they were but a whisper from each other, her eyes still a bit hazy from sleep. Before he could react, she placed a tender kiss next to his mouth, barely touching the skin of his lips. His arousal was instant though he had been able to control it up to this point. He searched her eyes for a sign that she was toying with him, but found only a look of adoration. His hand swept into her hair at the back of her head letting the tendrils run through his fingers. Gently he returned the kiss to her cheek, but unlike her, he did not stop there. He took her mouth with his, feeling the fullness of her lips. The kiss was delicate and soothing, a caress meant to express his love for her.

When he released her, he once again regarded her face, searching for a reaction. To his pleasure, her moist lips curved into a content smile that reached her twinkling eyes. He smiled back at her finding this comfortable exchange most satisfying. As she tried to snuggle closer to him, she winced in pain as the wounds that she had temporarily forgotten were irritated by the fabric of her nightdress.

"It will be necessary for you to lie still for awhile. We don't want the lacerations to reopen," he said. His voice was deeper than usual either from passion or from his having just awoken. He reluctantly began disentwine himself from her and sat up. Once again suppressing his urges, his hands went to her shoulders and slowly lowered the sleeves of her nightgown to expose her naked back to his eyes. The stripes looked as though they were healing nicely, no infection was noticeable. He replaced the garment and stood.

"You will stay in my cabin while you recuperate. I can have your things brought in here as well as Charles's cot." Seeing her concerned look he added, "Charles is with Stone. I will have him brought to you."

She quickly said, "Erik, you are my savior. If you hadn't discovered them…"

"Yes, I know love, but I did. It just wasn't soon enough to spare you this," he said, gesturing to her back.

Steeling his courage he said, "Before Charles is sent for, I need to tell you something. The boy saw me murder Harcourt. He was under the bed and he saw me kill the man." He was visibly pained to tell her this and she could see his distress.

"He will understand that you were coming to my rescue. He must have known what they were doing to me." Tears began to fall on the pillow as she thought of what her son had been forced to hear while he was hidden. "Oh my poor baby," she sobbed.

He dropped to his knees at her bedside and wiped at her tears, "I didn't know he was there, Christine. I was vicious. He will never forget what he saw me do."

Seeing that he was misinterpreting her sorrow and thinking that she blamed him for her son's unfortunate experience, she said strongly, "No Erik. You will not blame yourself for this. He will forgive you and he will understand. If you hadn't killed those men, God only knows what would have become of us! I will explain everything to him." She reached a hand to stroke his back, calming his fears. "You are our guardian angel, my wonderful protector. Please do not condemn yourself for this any further."

He heard the truth of her words and felt the guilt begin to slip away. "Christine, I…I will go fetch him." He had started to say _I love you_, but lost his nerve. He remembered the last time he had said those three words to her. It was still painful despite their closeness at the moment. He rose once more and pulled on a shirt. Exiting the cabin, he felt a bit nervous, but she had effectively placated him. He was now brave enough to face the child.

Stone opened the door to his knock, and upon seeing him, he stepped aside to allow Erik entrance. Charles still lay in Stone's bed, but he was awake. When Erik had come in, he had turned his face away to look at the opposite wall of the cabin. Erik felt the courage that she had instilled in him waning as he struggled with what to say or do. It was no good, he couldn't find the words. He turned to Stone and said, "Will you bring Charles to my cabin? His mother wishes to see him." He then turned and left.

"You hear that Charlie? You're Mama's wanting to see you. Let's get up now and go to her," Stone said enthusiastically.

Charles emerged from the bed and walked to the door. He turned to make sure that Stone was going to follow him, and continued on into the hallway. Erik had almost crossed his threshold as he turned his head to look down the passage and saw the two emerge from Stone's cabin. He left the door open and said to Christine, "Here he comes."

When Charles entered the cabin, he saw his mother lying on her stomach. Her nightdress had dark blotches on the back and her face was bruised. His lower lip trembled at the sight of her. He had known that the bad men had hurt her, but now he could see it. She reached out a hand to him, "Charles, come here." Her tone was firm, hoping that would give him some comfort that she still had strength in her.

He obediently walked to her and took her hand. "Charles, I know that you were very afraid last night and I know that you are afraid now. But the men that hurt me are gone. The Captain made them go away so that they would not hurt me anymore. The Captain, Erik, is a good man, Charles. He saved us. Do you understand?"

Charles looked at Erik, then back to his mother and he nodded. Erik felt relief course through his body. He wondered if he should dare try to approach the boy. As if sensing Erik's need, Christine said to Charles, "Please go and thank Captain Erik for rescuing us."

For a moment, Charles looked as though he were going to say that he did not want to, but then he walked over to Erik and said quietly, "Thank you, Captain Erik."

"You're welcome, Charles," Erik replied and squatted down to look the boy in the face. "I would never hurt you or your mother. You both mean a great deal to me." Unsure he drew Charles into an embrace and found that the boy clung to him hungrily.

Across the room, Christine regarded the exchange with tear-filled eyes. She wished that she were able to get up and go to them, joining in the beauty of the moment. Erik's eyes found her face and he smiled at her, silently expressing his gratitude for returning her son to him.


	14. Fragile Haven

_A/N: In this chapter I used the lyrics from an Andrew Lloyd Weber song that is in a different musical. I have always thought it would fit Erik and Christine had they actually gotten together. Who knows? Maybe originally it was supposed to be for them?_

**Ch. 14 – Fragile Haven**

Erik was having trouble concentrating on his work. The men hadn't noticed yet, but he was definitely not as able to focus as he had been before the tender moment he and Christine had shared in his cabin. Instead of listening to the Yeoman's report regarding the status of the ship's provisions, he was allowing his mind to wander back to that day.

Following his acceptance by Charles, Erik had spent the entire day caring for Christine and spending time with her and her son. He had decided that his duties would wait. For now he only wanted to be near them. Stone understood, of course, and hadn't batted an eyelash when Erik had told him that he was taking the day off. He merely nodded with a knowing grin and left.

Passing the time with them had been so natural, as if he did it everyday of his life. He scrounged up food from what had been saved after the galley fire, cutting up Charles's meal as any attentive parent would. To his delight it had been necessary for him to assist Christine in feeding herself. She was visibly uncomfortable and couldn't seem to find a position that allowed her to do it for herself. Several times she would gently say, "Erik, I can manage. I'm not a complete invalid," and he would relinquish some control back to her. He had always loved the thought of pampering her and was taking every opportunity that was presented now.

His stories had been more animated than ever before since Christine was now part of his audience. He would reduce both her and her son to fits of laughter and smile in satisfaction, pausing to allow them to catch their breath before he would continue. While Christine slept, he sang to Charles intending to give her a musical score to accent her dreams, hoping that he would be in them. He gazed upon her peaceful face; blemished by the bruise she had developed, remembering the first time that he had watched her sleep. They had both been so different then, so naive of what it would take for them to truly be together. He hoped that they were no longer that easily distracted by the outside forces that would always be determined to tear them apart.

Other than the obvious pain that Christine was enduring, the day had been the most perfect he believed that he had ever had. As night had fallen, Charles's cot was brought into the room and set up on the wall opposite the bed. Erik desired to sleep along side Christine, but knew that it would be highly inappropriate with the boy present. It would have been inappropriate had Charles not been there, but he doubted he would have cared if that were the case. Only for the sake of the child would he deny himself the pleasure of waking to her touch.

Knowing that it had been time to take his leave for the evening, he lingered at the door, reluctant to end the tranquility of the day. Taking one last look around the room, he addressed Christine and said, "I will sleep in your previous cabin tonight. I would like to check on you later to make sure that you are comfortable. Would that be acceptable?"

"Of course," she replied. "Erik, please come to me a moment."

He moved back to where she lay on her side, propped by all the pillows that he had managed to get his hands on earlier. She made a gesture for him to come close to her and he leaned across the mattress. Once he was within her reach, she wrapped a hand behind his head and pulled his lips to hers. Afraid to ignite a passion in them both that could not be fulfilled, her kiss was innocently sweet. When it ended, she whispered, "I shall miss you until you return, Angel."

His heart full to bursting, he withdrew from her and the bed. As he passed by Charles in his cot, he had reached down and patted the boy's hair causing him to look up with sleepy eyes. "You must come and retrieve me if your Mother needs anything. You are in charge of her care while I am not here." Charles nodded wearily and Erik smiled down at him with a look of pride.

In the night, he had returned to the cabin to check on her. She was sleeping fitfully, unassisted by any drug. He pulled his desk chair over to the side of the bed and sat watching her sleep, needing to be near her. Before he had known it, he had fallen asleep as well.

Now he stood up on deck wishing he hadn't risen from the chair that morning and returned to his duties, leaving Stone to care for the passengers. He had known that if he had stayed, he would never get to work. He would lock himself in the cabin with the two and never emerge. It would be the first prison that he would willingly submit to.

Each time that his First Mate would appear, Erik would make his way to him and inquire about how the couple was faring. Stone was amused by the Captain's behavior, more like a schoolboy than the commanding officer of the ship. "Captain, why don't you just go down below and check on them yourself? They have been asking for you each time I go in. Ease your mind and go to them."

"I have been remiss in my duties, Stone. If I continue this way, my crew will lose all respect for me and I will be forced to relinquish command of my ship before I know it." He sounded miserable and irritated by his current state of exile from where he wished to be.

"Would you really care?" Stone asked with a mocking smile.

Erik decided that it was a good thing that they weren't closer to the railing or he most definitely would have pushed the man over board. "I will go to them at suppertime. How are her wounds?"

"She is mending well. You did a fine job of patching her up, Captain. She's even been up and about a bit today."

Alarmed at this, Erik said, "She needs to rest, Stone. Tell her to remain in the bed and not to exert herself!"

"I think only you are capable of issuing such demands to Madam de Chagny."

"Don't call her that to me," he snapped. His mood now more foul than before.

"Aye sir," Stone muttered and walked away.

His anger and stubbornness giving him a new fervor toward his work, Erik strode around the deck, barking out orders. He was taking out his obligation to be there on the crew and he didn't care. They had been pampered long enough on this voyage. Each second that slowly crawled by increased his frustration and thus amplified his domineering. He was sure that the dining hour would never arrive.

Just as he was preparing to verbally castrate a young landsman, Stone appeared and informed him that he had just delivered the evening meal to his cabin. With a scowl cast at the offending sailor, he spun on his heel and headed for the companionway like a man running to his salvation. Stone patted the relieved young man on the back in a consoling manner and moved to assume command in the Captain's absence.

Erik did not knock as he entered. In fact, he was so tied in knots at the moment that he strode into the room like a bull elephant, slamming the opposite wall with the door and causing Christine and Charles to jump in surprise. "Erik," Christine said nervously, "have you had a difficult day?"

Looking down at her, he pointed a finger and said firmly, "You do not rise out of that bed until I have told you it is permissible. If you open your wounds, they will never heal!"

"There is a nicer way to keep me in your bed Erik, you needn't shout," she said playfully, blushing to her roots.

At first he didn't understand what she was saying, but as he came to the realization of her teasing, his expression changed from disapproving to desirous. She glanced toward Charles to try and keep Erik from acting on her suggestion. Following her gaze, he turned his attention to the boy and took a second to focus on the child, trying to erase the vision of the temptress that lounged on the bunk.

"Shall we eat?" she inquired. Gesturing to the food on the table, she said, "Stone has laid out a wonderful meal for us. Your backup cook is almost as good as the other. How is he doing, by the way?"

Knowing she was trying to divert his thoughts to the mundane, he answered, "He is recovering. The stab wounds were not too deep fortunately." He took Charles by the hand and led him to his seat at the table, which had been pulled up to sit beside the bed. This arrangement enabled Christine to reach the food without having to leave the bed. "Are you comfortable, Christine?"

"Yes. Thank you, Erik. The pain has seemed to lessen. Perhaps you will give me permission to get up soon?" she asked teasing him again. She wondered at her easy cajoling. This had not been a part of their relationship before. Was it the change in her or in him?

Erik was preparing Charles's plate and at her question he raised his exposed eyebrow and shook his head. "You have become quite a woman Christine. I daresay you are even closer to perfection with your new saucy attitude. You should beware; however, as I will be taking full advantage of your playfulness once you are well again."

Charles seemed confused by his mother and the Captain's words. He looked from one to the other wondering at them. "Mama, Is Captain Apollos your friend now too?" he finally asked.

"Yes, little man. He is my good friend," she said warmly smiling.

After they had dined and Erik had cleaned up the dishes, placing them in the hall for Stone to collect, he examined Christine's injuries again and redressed them. Satisfied that she would be able to arise on the morrow, he said, "You have my permission to leave your sickbed tomorrow, Christine. But you are not to overtax yourself. Understand?"

"Aye, Captain," she said with a mock salute. As he was turning toward the door she said, "Please stay the evening, Erik. It is so boring without you here." Charles rolled his eyes and nodded.

"As you wish. But you must sing with me."

Embarrassed she said, "Oh no, I can't. I'm very rusty. I haven't sung in many years."

"You must sing with me. I will forgive your neglect toward your voice in the past, but that has ended here," he stated firmly.

"Alright," she said meekly. Her insides were churning at the thought of mixing her voice with his once again.

"Mama, you can't. What about your Angel?" Charles asked worriedly.

Staring directly into Erik's eyes she said, "My Angel has returned to me, Charles."

Erik turned to his desk and produced a page of music, which he handed to her. She looked nervous at the idea of singing a new song that she didn't know, but he reassured her by saying, "I will guide you."

Erik began,

_I have never felt like this  
For once I'm lost for words  
Your smile has really thrown me  
This is not like me at all  
I never thought I'd know  
The kind of love you've shown me_

He gestured to Christine to sing the next stanza. Her voice filled the room as she sang,

_Now, no matter where I am  
No matter what I do  
I see your face appearing  
Like an unexpected song  
An unexpected song  
That only we are hearing_

Again he prodded her to go on,

_I don't know what is going on  
Can't work it out at all  
Whatever made you choose me_

His rich tenor voice took over,

_I just can't believe my eyes  
You look at me as though  
You couldn't bear to lose me_

He continued:

_Now, no matter where I am  
No matter what I do  
I see your face appearing  
Like an unexpected song  
An unexpected song  
That only we are hearing_

He took her hand in his. Their eyes were locked on each other, and in beautiful harmony they sang,

_I have never felt like this  
For once I'm lost for words  
Your smile has really thrown me  
This is not like me at all  
I never thought I'd know  
The kind of love you've shown me_

Now, no matter where I am  
No matter what I do  
I see your face appearing  
Like an unexpected song  
An unexpected song  
That only we are hearing

Like an unexpected song  
An unexpected song  
That only we are hearing

As they finished, the room was silent save for the sound of their panting breaths. Charles broke the quiet as he clapped and showed his appreciation for the spectacle that he had just witnessed. Erik put a hand to the side of her head and ran it down her silky tresses as he said, "Your voice is still exquisite."

"It still matches yours perfectly."

Ignoring the child in the room, Erik bent for a taste of her lips. It was the only thing that could follow a moment like they had just shared. Breaking apart, they heard Charles giggling and turned to look at the boy. "You kissed my Mama!" he exclaimed between laughs.

Erik found himself blushing from the child's amusement. Looking back at Christine, she shrugged and shook her head saying, "Well you did!"

Without a word, he planted a quick, hard kiss on her lips sending Charles and Christine into more fits of giggling. "You two are going to drive me to insanity yet!" he jested.

They passed the remainder of the evening in pleasant conversation while Erik attempted to teach Charles to play chess. When she asked, he told Christine of the origins of his career as a ship's Captain. She was warmed when he told her the translation of Fereshteh and thrilled to know that he had purchased a home for himself in America.

"You would love it, Christine. When I bought it I could envision you there. Perhaps when we land you will accompany me to see it." _And stay forever_, he thought.

"Perhaps," was her only answer. She had requested that he bring the sewing into the room and did not take her eyes off of the stitching when she replied. There was truly nothing she wanted more.


	15. Our Passion Play Has Now At Last Begun

_A/N: You guys are so loving me right now. I should just have written a big-old fluffy story all the way through! Well, enjoy…_

**Ch. 15 – Our Passion Play Has Now At Last Begun**

Christine was able to get up and move about his cabin the next day. It was difficult as the flesh on her back felt tight. She was afraid to reach too far and cause one of her wounds to reopen, which would infuriate Erik to no end. She sent Charles up on deck with Stone, worried that the boy would suffer from a relapse of cabin fever. Alone, she was able to think of him undistracted. She pictured him here in his room, sitting at the desk or sleeping in the bed. She opened his wardrobe and stroked her fingers over the material of his clothing, inhaling his scent. She was no longer under the delusion that she could hide her love from him. She wanted him to be hers, fully and truly in every sense and she was confident now that he felt the same.

That evening, after they had eaten, they put Charles to bed and Erik led her out of the cabin. He had told her earlier that he had intended to share something with her tonight. Stone would watch over the boy while they were out of the cabin. As they emerged from the companionway onto the deck, Christine found herself bathed in moonlight. She stared up at the night sky blanketed in pin-point diamonds. The sea breeze was warm and flowed around her. She felt as though she had just stepped into another world.

He steered her to a secluded spot on the quarterdeck and embraced her from behind as she gazed at the reflection of the full moon on the water's surface. "I have stood, looking at this a hundred times and every time I longed for you to be here with me." His voice was filled with emotion. He lifted a hand to her hair, brushing the wind tossed strands from her forehead. "I can't believe that you are truly here," he said, laying his face against the back of her head.

Her eyes had filled with tears at the beauty of what she was seeing and what she was hearing. "I can't believe I'm here with you either."

"Things are different, Christine. I am different. I can be whatever you need me to be."

"I only want you, Erik."

When he did not speak, she softly sang,

_In sleep he sang to me  
In dreams he came  
That voice which calls to me  
And speaks my name_

In her ear, he breathed, "Christine."

She turned her face to meet his and their lips met. She spun in his arms, facing him, reaching up to tangle her hands in his hair. His mouth devoured hers, his lips parted and he caressed her with his tongue. She responded with eagerness, lusciously taking his bottom lip between her own. His hands ran up her rib cage on either side of her body stopping next to her breasts. He was afraid to make more intimate contact, knowing that once he had touched her more personally, he would not stop until they were both sated. He was aware that there were still crewmen milling about and he had to control himself for the sake of her modesty.

Christine was already lost to him, heat flushing through her body. She wanted more. She wanted him to move his hands over her. She pressed her body to his more urgently, silently conveying her desire. She felt his arousal against her, exciting her passion. She nipped at his mouth with her teeth then releasing him from the kiss, she ran her tongue down his neck to his collar, settling there to suckle his flesh.

His control hung on by a thread, and before it could snap, he took a step back from her breaking contact. She looked at him in surprise, her eyes heavy with passion. "What is it?" she asked in a deep voice that didn't sound like her own.

"We should be in private. There are prying eyes here," he said gesturing to the men working onboard. He took her hand and led her back down the stairs to the passageway. When they neared the empty cabin that he had taken temporarily as his own, she stopped and reached for the door handle. He placed his hand over hers to stop her from touching it and pulled her fingers up to his mouth. Kissing the each one individually, he held her gaze for a moment before he said, "I do not wish to rush this, Christine. I have waited so long for you to be mine. It must be right before we are truly one." He saw the disappointment on her face and, still holding her hand in his left, brought his right up to cup her chin and stroke her cheek lovingly with his thumb. "This will happen, love. We are destined for one another and it has always been so."

She managed a smile and moved to place a chaste kiss on his lips but found that he was not yet completely willing to let the sensation go as he parted his lips to hers again. Their mouths slanted against one another, devouring and possessing. His mind was becoming intoxicated with her again, and he had to fight to regain control. He pulled back once again and regarded her with the look of a man in torment. He found that she looked much the same, if not worse. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her cheeks red from her excitement. Finding her voice, she warned, "Kiss me again, Erik and you shall lose this battle to maintain a chaste relationship."

He threw his head back and laughed heartily. She did not enjoy his mocking her, and poked him in the ribs to let him know of her displeasure. Noticing her frown he said, "Forgive me, Christine. But the thought of you ravaging me after all of these years of my near celibate existence is quite laughable."

"Near celibate?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. The notion of him with another woman caused her to fill with jealousy. She knew that it was unfair of her to be jealous when she herself had been married and had a child. She couldn't help it, she was irrationally upset at the thought of his touching a faceless woman or kissing her. She couldn't bear the thought of him kissing some paramour like he had just kissed her. As she felt her temper rising, she realized what a wicked and shameful woman she was. _I would have condemned him to a life of chastity rather than think of him with someone other than myself!_

"I don't think it would be proper for either of us to discuss our past liaisons. Nor would it be wise. All you need know is that my heart belongs to you as it always has. That will never change." He melted her foul mood with his loving words and she moved into his embrace.

"Oh Erik, there is so much I need to say to you. So much we need to discuss."

"Shh, another time. Let's not remember this night for anything other than the beauty that we have found together." He placed a kiss on the bridge of her nose and began to lead her back to the Captain's quarters. "Do you need any help getting settled in? Can you manage with your clothing?"

"Erik, please do not tease me now!" She reached a hand up to his cheek, settling it there. Heaving a sigh she said, "Good night my Angel."

"No longer an angel my love, but a man enslaved by your beauty and grace."

Her heart warmed, she untangled her fingers from his grip and ruefully entered the cabin. Once inside, she leaned back against the wood of the door, catching her breath. She was undeniably in love with him so deeply that her heart was aching from having to leave him. She was frightened by her feelings and at the same time, she was comforted. He had been right when he said that they were destined for one another. It seemed now that nothing could have stopped their joining. His crimes and arrogance, her betrayal followed by her marriage, these could not stop their love. She was determined not to stand in the way of her own fate anymore.

Thinking to their future, she wondered if Erik would marry her when they were able. He had told her of his home in Carolina, was there room for a wife and a son there? _A son_. Would Erik accept Raoul's child as his own? It was obvious that he was fond of the boy, even seemed to care deeply for him. But would he want the responsibility for raising his enemy's son? She honestly didn't know. He was never rational when it came to Raoul, he quite possible would not be able to stomach the idea. If that were true, she would not be able to stay with him. She would choose Charles and would have to leave him once again. _No,_ she thought_, I will not consider this possibility. I will speak to him before I get myself tied in knots over it. _Slowly she began to undress, careful not to aggravate her wounds. She lay down in his bed and wrapped her arms around the pillow willing it to be him. As she fell asleep, she dreamed of an angel that changed into a man the minute she caressed his face.

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His dreams were of pain, unbearable suffering as he watched Christine leave him again. He had pledged his love to her and she had laughed at him - calling him a monster, a beast, a pitiful creature. She had ground his heart under her heel and then had taken her son's hand to lead him away from Erik. "Don't look at him Charles. He is an abomination, barely human." He could feel his heart shattering into a million pieces, knowing that she was right, that he was so unworthy of her love. He screamed her name, but she did not turn back to look at him.

He woke in a cold sweat, his breathing rapid and his heart aching. "No," he said into the darkness around him. _It will not happen again_, he thought. _She will not betray m. She will choose me this time_. He ran a hand through his hair and looked up to catch his reflection in the mirror that sat across from the bed. He had not had a mirror in his cabin, and had never allowed one to be uncovered in his chambers. Now he sat staring at himself, his mask cast aside onto the bedside table. Doubt crept in to weaken his confidence. He saw the monster, the one that he had always hated and feared. He was right there, looking back at him with hatred. "Not this time," he said to his own image. "You will not destroy us this time." But his words were unconvincing; the monster had always won the battle. He saw in his mind's eye, the reflection smirk at him, mocking his efforts. _You will never have your happily ever after, Erik. The monster cannot win the day! Stop fighting against what you already know_.

"No!" He shouted at the mirror, and he sprung from the bed intending to smash it to bits. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of the paper rose that he had given Charles to present to her on the night of her birthday, the night of her attack. He remembered what those men had done to his beloved. Not men, monsters. He was not like them, he realized. They had been born without deformity, yet inside they were as twisted and evil as his face. His rage cooled, he crossed the room and retrieved his chemise that he had left on a nearby chair and covered the mirror with it. Exhausted, he collapsed back upon the mattress and succumbed to dreamless sleep.


	16. Sweet Seduction

_A/N: Thank you all for your glowing reviews! Kisses and Hugs all around (not from me, from Erik). I have enabled Anonymous reviews so if you had previously tried, the option is now available. Enjoy this one._

**Ch. 16 – Sweet Seduction**

The days passed by quickly. Christine had insisted that Erik and Charles resume their previous routine of taking the afternoon meal together as they had before Erik's identity had been revealed to her. She begged not to be included, allowing the two a chance to forge a bond between them. It seemed to be working as Charles would come back to the cabin, once again full of stories of Erik's antics and accomplishments. She was overjoyed to be allowed to see Erik's fondness for the boy each day when he would bring him back to her. He seemed to take pride in the things that Charles was working on with him. They were currently building a mechanical creature of some sort. It resembled a crab, but Charles insisted that it was a scorpion.

In the evenings, Erik would join them for dinner. Once Charles had fallen asleep, he would secret Christine topside to share the night sky and a kiss. He was determined to court her the correct way this time around, and try his hand at what he believed to be the act of behaving like a gentleman. Many evenings the darker side of his being would rear its head, his blood boiling for her once again, and she would respond in turn, quite willing to be seduced. It was at that point that Erik would deposit her back to the cabin and they would both face the rest of the night battling the feelings that they had stirred up.

A week after her attack, she felt that she was completely on the mend. The danger of her wounds reopening had passed and she requested that she and Charles return to their old cabin so that Erik could have his work areas back. Stone and a few of the other men moved her belongings and the cot back to the smaller cabin. After Stone dismissed his fellow crewmen, he turned to Christine and said, "Everything seems to be back in its place."

"Thank you, Stone. I have missed your companionship. You were so kind to me when I didn't know Erik captained the ship. Now that he and I are…spending time together, I barely get two words with you."

"Aye Christine, I have missed you and Charlie too. But the Captain is needing this time with you, he's spent too much of his life alone. Besides, he's a lot less stern these days. I like to see him smile."

"You are a good friend to him, Stone. I'm sure he hasn't always been the easiest man to get along with. Thank you for caring for him all these years," she said and then hugged Stone.

His face grew hot with embarrassment and he set her away from himself after a few seconds. "Is there anything else, I can get for you, Christine?"

"Yes, in fact there is. Now that I have healed sufficiently, would you prepare a tub for me when Charles takes his time with Erik? I would love a long soak."

"Of course, ma'am. I'll be back in a few hours with the water."

Looking around she realized that the men that had cleaned the cabin had not left so much as a drop of blood anywhere. She was sure that as Erik had taken his temporary residence here, he had made certain that she would not find any trace of that horrible night. He would not want her reminded of the last time she had been here.

She spent the morning getting the cabin into some semblance of order, unpacking their clothing and putting away their items. The hours passed by quickly. Before she knew it Charles was up on deck and Stone had filled the tub with water that had been warmed on the stoves. She removed her clothing and donned her silk robe. Moving to the mirror, she pinned her hair on top of her head, leaving a few stray strands to touch her shoulders. She removed her jasmine oil from the trunk and sprinkled a few drops into the water. Satisfied that she was ready to enter the tub, she removed the robe and draped it overtop of the oriental screen that still stood in the corner.

The tub had been placed in the center of the room, which was the only area large enough to accommodate its size. She had no fear of interruption and thus stepped into the hot water. Sinking into its fragrant warmth, she felt her muscles and her mind relax. The steam and the vapors of jasmine mingled together to dizzy her senses and she found herself feeling sluggish and drowsy. Closing her eyes, she relaxed her head against the rim of the tub and allowed the sensations to work their magic on her.

Suddenly, she was jerked awake as the door swung open and she saw her son run into the room. Apparently he was on the hunt for some item that he had forgotten. In the open doorway was Erik. He took one look at her compromising position, and entered the room, heading for the corner. Without a word, he lifted the oriental screen and placed it in front of the tub, shielding himself from her. Shock had begun to recede and she found her voice, "Charles, darling, what are you looking for?"

"I forgot my drawing pad. I need to show Captain Erik something," he said frantically, rummaging through the drawers and trunks.

"Sweet, I think that it may have been left in the other cabin when we moved."

Charles looked up, considered this information and dashed out the door. Christine was left alone with Erik. She could see the outline of his form through the screen. She saw the silhouette move to close the door and she felt the thrill of anticipation coursing through her body.

Knowing that Charles would return in just a moment's time, she considered what to do faced with their present situation. The tension in the room was electric and she felt sure that the water in the tub would begin to boil at any instant due to the heat she felt spreading from her stomach to her extremities.

Seizing her courage, she said, "Would you hand me my robe, Erik?"

She watched as the shadow of the man's arm reached up, and slowly her silken garment disappeared to the other side of the barrier. She was mesmerized by its motion. Then she saw him step around the divider, slowly approaching her. His eyes focused on her face with unbridled desire. Before she knew it, he had stepped behind her and she heard her robe heap to the floor. His hands were on either side of her face below her jawline and began to make a path down her neck. She thought she would die from the exquisite pleasure that she was experiencing as his hands continued their descent to graze her collarbone. His touch was light, barely a whisper, but it left a trail of heat wherever his fingers made contact with her skin. As they began to move even lower still, she let out a moan, barely audible, but still loud enough to cause him to stiffen as a jolt of passion moved through him. His fingers skimmed the water's surface and she closed her eyes, willing him to continue his exploration. But he ceased his movement and withdrew his hands from her body. Determinedly he moved away from her and stepped back behind the screen just as the door reopened and Charles entered.

"I found it! Come on," he said, beckoning Erik to follow him.

Christine felt the water chill instantly as the pair left the room. Her stomach was in knots and her body was aching for his touch to return to her. Frustrated, she finished cleansing and stood in the tub, allowing the water to cascade down her body. She bent and reached for her robe, which had been left on the floor behind where she had lain. As she retrieved the cool silk, she noticed underneath where the robe had resided, another paper flower, this one resembling an orchid. She exited the tub and lifted the token to her face to examine it. The flower had been dipped in purple ink and scented with a strong, sensual fragrance. Would this man never cease to amaze her with his endless assault on her heart?

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Erik was frustrated from the encounter in Christine's cabin. He didn't know how much more of this torture that he could take. After all, he was just a man of flesh and blood. But he wanted her to have that which she had expressed to him during their first meeting. He wanted her to choose him of her free will and she had certainly been heading in that direction ever since her attack. The looks she gave him conveyed her affection for him; the kisses that she responded to and at times initiated conveyed her desire for him. He had begun to dare to believe that she was indeed willingly choosing to love him, and so far, it had been much sweeter, just as she had predicted.

He had decided that he was confident enough to ask her for her hand. He wanted her as his wife, once and for all. They were approximately still a little over a week from shore. Once they landed, he hoped that they would seek out the first reverend or justice of the peace or priest that would marry them. Whatever she desired, however she desired, they would wed and then settle in his home. He would take Charles as his own son. Knowing what it was like to grow up without the guidance of a father, he did not want the boy to have to live without a man in his life. Despite the fact that he wore Raoul's appearance, he was a part of Christine, and Erik's feelings toward Charles had been clear since the child had been sick; he loved him.

At the thought of being a father, a feeling of warmth and joy spread through him. He looked up at the one that he would be his son and regarded him with pride. Charles was currently attempting to figure out why their mechanical scorpion would not walk. Only a few of its many legs would move when it was wound, and Charles was patiently checking all of the small cogs that were inside the toy. He looked up at Erik as he said, "Charles."

"Yes, sir."

Under the boy's innocent gaze, he lost his nerve to express his feelings. He had never had anyone, let alone a parent tell him that he was loved. He assumed that with time, it would become something that he would be able to do. He hoped so.

"I believe that if you adjust the tightness of the spring mechanism, it may loosen up the legs." As he watched Charles complete the task, he was delighted to see the excitement spread through the boy's features as the scorpion did indeed walk across the desk. Charles jumped up and ran to Erik and hugged him around his legs. "We did it!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, we did", Erik said and then added the word, "son." He was surprised how naturally it had seemed to call him that. He had rather enjoyed it. Charles didn't seem to notice or if he did, he didn't realize the implication of Erik's using the moniker. He released the man's legs and returned to his scorpion, winding it and watching it walk over and over.

Erik had come to two key decisions at that moment. First, that he would devote himself to preparing the ship for docking, thus avoiding any chance for he and Christine to give in to their apparent lack of restraint when it came to physical desires. Second, that on the last evening of the voyage, he would speak with her regarding their past and their future. There were things that he felt he needed to say to her and there were things that he was curious to know before they could be completely free to be husband and wife. Once the air was cleared he would propose his intentions regarding their marriage and his wish to adopt Charles as his own son.

The negative thoughts sprang to his mind instantly out of habit. _It's too much to hope for. Domestic bliss cannot belong to me. _He staunched them by turning his attentions back to the five-year-old and his toy. _But I can feel it right now, as I look at him. And as he looks at me. It can be mine._ He felt the affirmation run through him and for the first time in his life, felt true hope.


	17. Revelation

_A/N: Here are some answers for you finally. I know you have all been very curious. Glad to see a couple of new reviewers after this last chapter. That is encouraging to say the least! And I'm also so thrilled each time I see a familiar name in a review, because it means that you are sticking with me. Thank you all_.

**Ch. 17 - Revelation**

After two full days of no contact from Erik, Christine had become as impatient as a caged lion. She had gone topside several times without catching a glimpse of him and returned to her cabin so fidgety, she found that she could not sit long enough to complete a simple task. She spent most of the third day pacing the room and accosting Stone for information at every opportunity.

"Christine, I have told you. The Captain is busy with the preparations for our landing. We will be ashore in less than a week now. He has to get the cargo and the vessel in order for that time or he will find himself with a blooming mess on his hands." Putting a hand to her shoulder, he continued, "I'm sure he is as bothered by this separation as you are."

"Haven't you seen him yourself?" she inquired.

"No, he has been moving about the ship like a ghost these past days. The men that are assisting him have said that he is working with the intensity of the devil himself! Now does that sound like the description of a happy man? I tell you, he's probably just as miserable as you are."

"Have I been miserable?" she asked, concerned that she had been acting in an inconsiderate manner.

"Aye, you have been quite the tempest these past few days. But even your bluster is more charming than others," he teased.

"If you see Erik..."

"Aye, I'll tell him."

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"Captain, I believe that Madame Christine is wanting to see you." He had found Erik in the hold taking final stock of the cargo they were transporting. The man was covered in sweat, shirtless and engrossed in his current task. He did not acknowledge that Stone was present, let alone had spoken.

"Captain?" he said in a louder voice.

Without looking up from his paperwork, he said, "Yes, Mr. Stone?" His tone was gruff, clearly an indication that he had not wanted to be disturbed.

"Christine. She is wanting to see you." Stone was starting to believe that coming to find the Captain had been a big mistake. The man did not seem in the mood to have a conversation at the moment.

"Tell her that I will be unavailable until the night before we dock. I will come to her then." He looked up at Stone to be sure that the man had heard him. Then he turned back to inquire something of one of the men that he was working with.

Stone realized that he had been dismissed and exited the hot cargo hold. He hastened down the corridors until he reached her stateroom. Steeling himself for her reaction he knocked and gained admittance.

"Can he really be that busy that he can't take a moment to speak with me?" she asked. She was clearly hurt by Erik's response. Thinking of the last time she had seen him, she began to think that he possibly could be upset with her. Had she been too forward? Was he repulsed by her blatant desire for him? She found it hard to believe that he would harbor those types of feelings for her. But she was nevertheless feeling insecure about her position in his heart.

"I don't know why the Captain is insisting on staying away from you day and night, but he does have a lot of work to do before we reach America. I'm sorry that I couldn't give you a better answer. You'll just have to ask him yourself when he comes to see you the night before we dock."

"And when will that be?" she asked.

"Only five more days, I think."

She turned her back on Stone, feeling deep disappointment and sadness at Erik's decision. "I have no choice in the matter. I will wait for him to come to me," she finally said. Before the man could leave, she added, "Do you have a moment to speak with me?"

"Aye."

They took seats facing each other. Christine nervously fidgeted with her hands and the silk ribbons on her gown. She had decided to tell Stone the details of her flight from France, believing that she could trust him to advise her as to her next course of action. The more days passed without contact from Erik, the more uneasy she became about revealing her current plight. She hoped that as Erik's friend, Stone would tell her how to approach the subject.

Finally finding the beginning of her tale, she spoke. "Stone, the night that we met, I didn't tell you the entire story about why I was leaving France in such a hurry. I told you that we were in trouble and that I was a widow. I can never thank you enough for not pressing the issue at that time. However, now I feel the need to tell you the full truth and to ask your help."

"Anything I can do, Christine. I'll do it." Stone could see the tension in her face as she struggled with telling him the dark secrets that haunted her. "But why do you not tell the Captain?"

"It's such a complicated situation…I don't know how he will take it all." She touched her hand to her forehead as if she had a headache. "I must get your opinion on the matter as you have known him more recently than I. You know the man he has become. Will you listen?"

"Of course."

"You know that I was married to Raoul de Chagny for six years. And you also know of our history with Erik so I won't go into the details of all that." She sighed, obviously steeling herself for the next bit. "After Raoul died, two years ago, his brother Philippe moved into our home claiming that it was his right as the only other de Chagny heir. He had never married, has no children. Throughout my marriage to Raoul, Philippe had always been a disconcerting fixture in our lives. He was constantly looking at me with…well…as he shouldn't! Raoul always laughed it off and said that Philippe was just trying to be funny, that it was his personality. But I was never comfortable around him. I had heard rumors about his business dealings. Many people that had crossed him seemed to turn up missing or dead. I began to realize that Philippe was a very dangerous man who had a lot of shady friends. In time, even Raoul couldn't dispute these facts.

"Once he moved into our home, I was on guard all of the time. And I was proven correct in my suspicions rather quickly. For the first year he seemed content only to look and make snide comments, but he started to become more bold and brazen." She stopped for a moment to collect her thoughts and Stone could feel a tightening in his stomach. He knew where this was going.

"I began locking my bedroom door at night. I kept Charles with me at all times hoping to deter him. But he found ways to get me alone." Tears were threatening to spill, but she continued on having come this far. "Before we left, he had become incensed that I was rejecting him. He told me that I would marry him for Charles's sake. He threatened to kill my son!" Crying uninhibitedly now, she found a great release at finally having told someone of this. Stone waited patiently for her to continue. Once she composed herself, she took a deep breath and continued. "There is more. Oh God, give me strength. The night he threatened Charles, he tried to force himself on me."

Stone had to stop himself from leaping to his feet he was so shocked at what she had said. Anger was flooding his heart. How did this woman continue to survive the evil men of this world? Sensing his mood, she quickly added, "Robert, my manservant, interrupted him before he was able to carry out the attack. He had somehow known what was happening. I had never told him what Philippe was doing to me. I can only thank God for his perception."

"Philippe was livid at the man's interference. He swore that if ever again anyone came between us, he would kill them without batting an eyelash. I have no choice but to believe him, he is ruthless and I have seen it first hand. He doesn't know, but in the first year that he was with us, I heard an argument outside of my window in the late hours. I peeked outside and saw Philippe shouting at a young man. Whatever the man had done, Philippe was enraged. I meant to look away and climb back into bed, but without any hesitation or forewarning, Philippe drew a revolver and shot the man dead. Right there in our yard. Out of the darkness several men moved in and took the body away."

"The day after he tried to rape me, Robert and I decided that I needed to take Charles and get as far away from Philippe as I could. He helped me make the arrangements to Le Havre. I had to leave most of our things behind, not that I really wanted a reminder of that house anymore. He had desecrated our home with his lust and his violence." As she uttered these words, she couldn't help but think of Erik. She had once thought he was filled with evil, but after her contact with Philippe, she knew better. Erik had never had a choice: his life was a compilation of the brutalities of society. Philippe had been raised in nobility with every opportunity at his feet. It was most definitely clear who the real monster was.

"Upon reaching Le Havre, I inquired about passage and you turned up. And once again, fate has decreed that Erik and I are destined to be together."

"What do you think that Philippe did when he found out you were gone. Would he give up?" Stone asked.

"Not likely. He is filled with pride and arrogance. I don't know to what extent he will go, but I do believe that he will attempt to find me. At least in America he will not be able to hide behind his damn title!" She was angry at the thought of how society would always regard a Comte as a true gentleman, rather that look beyond his noble blood to see the black heart that was beating it. "I hated to leave Robert and his family to Philippe's mercy, but I had no choice. I had to protect Charles and myself from the man. I pray every night that the Lord is watching over and protecting them from him." Robert's wife Charlotte had been the housekeeper and only friend that Christine had had during her time at the estate. They had a twelve-year- old daughter named Celeste, who would spend hours entertaining Charles with made up games and stories. It had been torture to leave them as they had become like Christine's family. She had felt that closeness that she hadn't felt since her father had died. It was another reason that she resented Philippe.

Stone had grown thoughtful, considering all that she had told him. "It would be very difficult to find one woman and a child in America, but it is possible. What had you planned to do when you reached shore?"

"I had considered moving further into the land, working where I can and just staying on the move until I felt we were safe. But then there was Erik." Now her features took on the look of weariness. "Erik will no doubt want to find Philippe and make him pay for what he did."

"And well he should. The man does not deserve to walk the face of this earth any more than Harcourt did!"

"But Stone, Erik has a weakness that Philippe doesn't have. He released Raoul all those years ago because he has a conscience, a sense of right and wrong. Until Philippe I didn't realize it. It took seeing a man without any scruples, to recognize one that did have them. If Erik hesitates in the least, for any reason, Philippe will kill him. And should he be on his way to find me, he will not be alone. Erik will be outnumbered.

"I feel as though telling Erik the full of it would cause him to be careless and I can't risk losing him again. I love him too much to do that. Perhaps once we have settled in and I knew whether or not the threat was real, I could tell him."

"And if it is real? What then Christine? Will you run away from him and leave him to wonder why?" Stone was obviously distressed to hear that she was risking his friend's heart in order to save his life.

"I don't know. But I do believe that telling him right now would be a mistake. Stone, I'm not even sure what he intends to do with me yet!"

"I think you know the depth of his devotion to you."

"Well, it is that devotion that can blind a man to reality," she said as she paced the room. "When we reach shore, I will send a telegram to Robert asking about Philippe's actions. Once I have received his response, I will tell Erik everything. Until then, you must keep my secret, Stone. I am sorry to ask you for this favor. I don't wish to cause a rift between you and Erik. But I needed a confidante that would know what was happening should Philippe actually make an appearance. I beg your forgiveness for using you in this way."

Stone was torn between his loyalty to his Captain and friend, and his concern for Christine and Charles. He knew that Erik would do just as she had said. He would stop at nothing to seek out this man and tear him apart. He also knew that there were still many misunderstandings and issues that stood between this couple that needed to be sorted out. Perhaps once those things were brought to light, Christine would find it easier to confide in Erik. He had no choice but to agree with her. "Aye, Christine, I will keep your secret. But you must come and stay at my house when we dock. I won't have you residing in some inn on the docks like a sitting duck. Besides, you and Maura will get along famously and she will be thrilled to have some company. Charles will have some playmates and I will be able to keep my eye on you both. This here is not an option. You will have to say yes if you wish me to keep quiet."

She could not begrudge him his blackmail. She had put him in this position after all. Nodding her head, she sealed their pact. "Alright Stone, I will stay with your family. And despite your forcefulness, I will be happy to do so." Raising an eyebrow in jest she added, "You could have just asked!"

"Christine, don't doubt Erik's ability to see to your safety. He would move mountains for you. I know."

"Thank you my friend. For everything," she said as she ushered him out of her room.


	18. Dreams Are Shattered

_A/N: I was going to wait a few hours before posting this chapter, but you can all thank Nade-Naberrie for an earlier update. She knew the magic words to say to get me to relent. Anything with Gerry on top will result in my total submission!_

_I know some of you are less than enthused at the moment with the turn of events that the story is taking. Christine has no doubt had to deal with a lot of difficulty in the recent years since Raoul's death. I imagine she was trapped in her circumstances as well as living in a constant state of fear. In her mind, the first man that she trusted apart from her father, used her. Her husband who was supposed to protect and provide for her died, and her comfort and security were ripped away by Philippe. Her actions are not going to be very logical in my opinion, and she could never have imagined that she would once again be a part of Erik's life. So, now that I have somewhat explained why she is doing what she is doing…here is the real reason – _**Because I need Erik not to know about it so that the story goes the way I want it to**

_If you have been unhappy before, this chapter is not going to make you too thrilled either. But Erik is awesome as always._

**Ch. 18 – Dreams Are Shattered**

The five days dragged along uneventfully for Christine and full of hard work for Erik. He had stretched the limits of his body, not giving himself a moment's rest. When he would return to his stateroom in the late hours of the night, he was so exhausted that he fell asleep instantly. He allowed himself no more than a few hours rest, and then he would be up and back to work.

He hesitated outside of Christine's room for a second before knocking. He had taken this week to think about what he wanted to say to her and what he wanted to ask her. He had carefully compiled a mental list of all of these things over and over again until he was sure of exactly how he wished the conversation to go. But now that he was standing here with only a piece of wood standing between them, he was struggling with his desire to see her after so many days and his need to clarify their relationship.

His hesitation proved to be his downfall as she yanked the door open to reveal herself to him. He hadn't been ready to see her and his face showed his surprise. Taking in the sight of her, he realized that she was angry. He had expected she would be. But he did not expect her to be more beautiful than ever, stealing his very breath before he could utter a word.

"I thought you weren't coming," she said with slight contempt in her voice. She had sensed his presence at the door before he had knocked and she had been so excited to see him that she hadn't hesitated and opened the door. He looked exhausted; the visible side of his face was pale with a dark circle under his eye. He also looked miserable, as Stone had predicted. She had to hold tight to her anger so as not to feel the stirrings of concern that were beginning to surface.

He knew that he had to cool her ire before they could have the discussion that he had planned. He stepped into the room, looking for a sign of Charles's presence. Finding none, he looked at Christine questioningly.

"He is with Stone," she said in answer to his unspoken query. The first mate had offered to take the boy so that they would have the privacy that they deserved. She hadn't argued with him and was very grateful for the suggestion.

After she closed the door, she found herself spun into his arms and drawn into a long, drugging kiss. Her anger was draining out of her with each movement of his lips against hers. His fingers plunged into her upswept hair and the pins were scattering to the floor as he pulled the locks free of their confinement. Satisfied for the moment, he broke contact with her and stepped away. She looked as if she were in a daze for a second, then the clarity returned to her eyes. Before she could speak, he placed his index finger to her lips and led her to sit. Then he took a position across from her and captured both of her hands with his.

"I'm sorry for my absence this week, Christine. I needed some time to collect my thoughts, and I have a difficult time doing that when you are so near to me."

"Why didn't you tell me yourself that you were just taking time to think?" she asked. "I thought that you were displeased with me."

"Displeased with you? Why ever would I be displeased with you?"

"I had acted, well, like a wanton woman that last night I saw you. In the bathtub."

He replayed the scene in his head and found it very pleasant indeed. What he had allowed himself to glimpse that night had been the very reason that he had wanted to avoid her this past week. "I believe that the men on this ship would refer to you as a lusty wench," he informed her, teasing.

She was horrified at his statement, "Oh Erik, I can't help myself when I am around you!" She pulled her hands away from his grip to bury her face in them from embarrassment.

"Never fear, my darling. I do not hold such things against you. I have difficulty accepting them, but I would never spurn you for them," he said and reclaimed her hands from her face. "Now, love, there are things that we need to discuss before our arrival tomorrow." He took a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing, "Christine, I have loved you from the moment that I first laid eyes on you. Yes, you were a child at the time, but your loneliness and grief called to me and touched my soul. We have always been kindred spirits, you and I - loving music, looking for companionship and love. I was blinded by my feelings for you, and I have no real excuse for doing the things that I did to force you to love me back. It's time I said I'm sorry for the torture that you endured because of my actions."

She searched his tormented face and realized that she had forgiven him at some point on this journey; the old wounds had finally healed. "You have changed Erik and I have forgiven you."

He brought each of her hands to his lips to bestow a kiss upon them and whispered, "Thank you, Christine."

His tender gesture pulled at her heartstrings and she found her eyes welling with tears. "Erik, I said such horrid things to you the night of the storm. I hope that you will also forgive me. I do trust you and I don't hate you."

His hands tugged at hers until she was settled into his arms. "Of course I forgive you," he said as he placed a soft kiss upon her mouth. They sat in a warm embrace for awhile, not wanting to let go. Finally his courage was built and he began to tell her of his plans for their future, "Christine, I wish to tell you my intentions for once we reach the shore."

After she nodded her acknowledgment, he continued. "I…..I want to marry you Christine and take Charles as my son."

His absence from her in the last week had not prepared her for this. The tears returned to her eyes and before she knew it, she was crying openly. He wanted Charles as his son. It was too perfect, too wonderful. She tightened her hold on him; clinging to the man she loved with all her heart.

He didn't know what to make of her reaction. He had convinced himself that she would be happy about his proposal, but the way she was sobbing against him made him think otherwise. "Do my intentions cause you pain or happiness, Christine? Please tell me," he begged.

"I am happy Erik. You have overwhelmed me, that is all." She raised her face to look into his. "You wish to adopt Charles as your own even though he is Raoul's son?"

"He is your son also, is he not? I love him Christine. I will try to be a good father to him and a good husband to you if you will have me."

She wanted to accept his proposal desperately. Her heart was screaming yes so loudly that it pained her. But her mind was working against her heart, telling her to wait and see what their arrival in America would bring. Fear was her motivator. She could not in good conscious agree to marry him without him knowing what demons were pursuing her and Charles. But she was determined to see her plan through, and wait until after she had received some news from Robert.

"Erik, I….I cannot say yes right now. There are complications that I need to deal with first." She felt his entire body go rigid at her words. She had known that he would not be happy with her answer and she also knew that it had taken a lot for him to ask. Her heart was breaking at the thought of what must be going through his mind. "Please, please be patient, Erik. I just need to get settled in America and be sure that we are safe."

"Why do you have need to be assured of your safety? Is it because of the reason that you left France in such a blasted hurry?" He was warring between anger, disappointment, rejection and concern all at once. Anger was coming out on top so far.

"Please don't be angry," she begged. She knew her words would fall on deaf ears; his anger would not be controlled. He roughly placed her away from him and stood. He began stalking around the room, his furious eyes boring into her.

"Do you doubt my ability to protect you or Charles?" he raged.

"No Erik," she said timidly. Her tears had returned and she hung her head down, her frame shaking. He crossed the room to her in an instant and took her into his arms once again. His nimble fingers brushed the wetness from her cheeks and his mouth covered hers with frenzy. When she had ceased her crying and was clutching him with abandon, he released her.

"You are aware that I am not a patient man, nor am I a man who is content to be left in the dark." She nodded. "You will tell me." Seeing the genuine terror in her face at his demand, he knew that he could not force her. Heaving a sigh, he added, "When you are ready Christine."

Wiping at her tears, she said, "Thank you, Erik. I know that this is difficult for you." She rewarded him with a beautiful smile, expressing her gratitude. 

"I have another request. When we reach shore, I would like it if you and Charles would stay at my house while you get settled."

In her head an alarm went off. She was about to hurt him once again. "That is very generous of you, Erik. Thank you. But, I have already accepted Stone's offer to stay with his family for a time." She watched his expression return to its typical scowl of irritation. How much more rejection could she deliver to him?

"I will accompany you to his home and then I will return to the ship." he said tensely. He had been so sure that this meeting between them would go differently. That he was finally going to have her commitment and her love to himself when he brought the Fereshteh into port. But once again, she had abused his faith in her. He wondered if he would ever learn where this woman was concerned.

Moving to the door, he uttered, "Until tomorrow then." Without so much as a kiss goodnight, he swept out of the room leaving her feeling as though she had just committed a horrible mistake that perhaps she wouldn't be able to remedy quite as easily as she had believed.


	19. Homecoming

_A/N: Here is a little peace at last for our beloved couple. But don't get too comfortable. I am a firm believer of the best things come to those who wait._

**Ch. 19 - Homecoming**

Christine and Charles leaned against the railing as the shoreline approached. Charleston loomed ahead of them, the grand manor houses lining the edge of the land. The harbor was filled with ships of all sizes and models. Erik had told them about the events surrounding this great city during the recent civil war and they were excited to finally see the legendary Fort Sumter. Christine found herself sharing in her son's obvious delight at the beauty that was Charleston.

Erik was up on deck overseeing the docking, but found his eyes wandering to the pair at the railing. He watched their faces glow with happiness and anticipation. He was so lost in thought that she caught him staring at them. She raised her hand in a wave, silently willing him to join them. His expression hardened as he thought of the events of the previous evening. Her denial had cut him to the quick. He hadn't been prepared for it. And now the dull ache in his heart was a constant reminder to him of what control she exercised over him.

She watched as he frowned and turned away from them, a pain spreading through her chest. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him and she silently prayed that she would be able to make it up to him soon by accepting his proposal and giving him a family. The thought of having Erik's child negated the pain she was feeling and replaced it with utter joy. To lay a baby in his arms and give him that gift was a beautiful thought that she held onto, forcing all thoughts of their present reality away.

Having already packed up their meager belongings, they were disembarking the ship an hour later. The market area that made up the pier bustled with people and carriages. Stone had already hailed a driver and Christine and Charles were seated inside it waiting for the men to escort them to the first mate's house. The carriage rocked as Erik pulled himself inside. "Charles, Stone is riding in a separate carriage with your trunk. Would you like to ride with him and I will keep your mother company? I do believe that you could persuade the driver to allow you to take the reigns for a moment or two." Erik knew the boy couldn't resist the opportunity. Charles bolted out of the carriage with Christine left feeling a bit uneasy at being left alone with the man. Erik gave instructions to the driver and settled back in the seat across from her.

His eyes were filled with pain and desire, and they were focused directly on her. She had to look away from the heat of his gaze, her face blushing from his attentions. The silence was stifling, as if it were throbbing around them both. She willed him to speak to her, to say anything. But he remained quiet and unflinching in his stare.

The carriage left the bustling port city and turned onto a road that was surrounded by marshy swamp land. With no threat that someone would see them, Erik used his skillful reflexes and pulled her to him, depositing her on his lap. His fingers plunged into her hair, roughly pulling her head back, and his mouth descended upon hers. She responded with equal fervor, as she reached up and around his neck, pulling him deeper. Despite the silence between them, she couldn't deny him her response. Her body and soul came alive only for him now.

His free hand ran up her bodice and roughly caressed her breast through her gown. He couldn't be gentle, it was beyond him now. She gasped at the sensation and tried in vain to move even closer to him. He felt his control slipping. As much as he did not want her to hurt him anymore, he knew that he would never be free of her. She would always be the only woman for him. The realization did not sit well with him at the moment, and he ripped his mouth from hers and settled it on her neck, biting and kissing. She felt his hand moving up under her skirts, along her thigh, but did not make any attempt to stop him. She threw her head back in abandon and whispered, "I love you Erik".

His mouth stopped its assault and his hand ceased its exploration. She felt the air around them begin to clear and realized that his head lie on her chest, his arms now wrapped around her waist. She felt the dampness of tears fall upon her flesh and was aware that his frame was silently shaking. He stroked his hair, wondering at his change. Filled with compassion she asked, "What is it Erik?"

"You are the first ever to say those words to me," he said in a strained voice. "Christine, you are an amazing woman. Last night you ripped my very heart out and today you give it back to me. I shall never be able to forsee what you are capable of doing to me."

She sat in silence, thinking of what it must have been like to live a lifetime without ever hearing those three little words. How she had taken for granted each time that Raoul had said them to her. Determined to begin making up for lost time, she reached down and cupped his face, raising it to her eye level. "I love you, Erik. I'm sorry that I withheld those words for so long from you."

He kissed her lips much more tenderly than before. His anger and passion had cooled with her expression of love. He settled her next to him on the bench seat and held her close for the rest of the journey. They rode together as two lovers, holding hands, whispering sweet words, stealing kisses. When the carriage pulled up the drive of the house, they both felt some disappointment that their private time was ending. The gentle rocking stopped and the driver opened the door to help Christine descend. She reluctantly rose from her place at Erik's side and stepped out of the vehicle.

Before her feet had even touched the ground, the front door was opened and a sea of red hair streamed from inside the house and down the steps, running toward the second carriage. Christine watched as the brood overtook Stone with shouts of 'Papa, you are home' and 'What did you bring us?' Looking back toward the house she saw a lovely woman, also a red-head, standing on the porch surveying the scene. Once Stone caught her eye however, she was not content to merely remain apart from the homecoming and raced across the yard to embrace her husband.

Erik had descended the carriage and stood behind Christine, his arm draped around her neck, pulling her back toward him. He kissed her temple as they continued to watch the blissful homecoming. She was broken out of the reverie when she saw her son poke his head out of the second carriage, apparently feeling awkward among all the commotion. She hurried to the door of the carriage and helped him down, Erik at her side. The five Stones all looked at the new child, taking in his face. Christine held her breath, waiting for the first utterance of, 'What's wrong with him?', but it never came. The eldest boy approached Charles and said, "You want to see our room?"

Charles looked up to his mother for permission and when she nodded, the entire gang ran back into the house leaving the four adults outside with the carriages. Stone turned to his wife and said, "Maura, I need you to meet someone. This here is Christine de Chagny. She crossed with us. That was Charles, her son that just got inducted into the clan."

Maura smiled at Christine and with an Irish brogue said, "Welcome to the Carolinas Ma'am." She turned to address Erik and with a glimmer in her eye she said, "Since when does the dread Captain Apollos take women and children on his mighty pirate ship? I mean other than my lot."

"Maura, I would only make the exception for the rarest beauties. It is a pleasure to see you again," he said as he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. Maura could not deny Erik's appeal, his mask had never intimidated her and what lie underneath was not her concern. She was curious, however, about the woman that was hanging on his arm. She sensed an intimacy between them, obvious to her romantic heart. Having gotten to know Erik on their voyage over a few years back, she was thrilled with the possibility of him finding some happiness with someone. She had been aware of his discontentment with his solitary life. Even though he had tried to remain aloof from Maura and her family, he had gravitated toward them, basking in the warm glow of family love.

Once Erik had released her hand, she bowed in a mock curtsy and laughed, "Charming to a fault, Erik."

"Maura, Christine is going to stay on with us for awhile," Stone informed his wife when she moved back to his side.

"How nice! It'll be lovely having another woman my age around. This is wonderful." She took Christine's hands and began to lead her toward the house. Christine had to admit that she was overwhelmed by Maura Stone. The woman was a reflection of her beautiful hair, a ball of fire. _She had been so comfortable with teasing Erik_, Christine noted. Christine felt a twinge of jealousy and regret that Maura had had the fortitude to see beyond Erik's layers of facades so easily and focus only on the man that he was. If Christine had been as brave, she would certainly have saved herself much heartache over the years.

Within an hour, food overflowed on the table. The house was alive with activity and noise. Charles had become fast friends with each of Stone's children while Christine found it a task to try to remember each of their names. She was amazed that each time she would search to remember a child's name, Erik would come to her rescue, whispering the answer to her. He not only seemed to like the Stone family, but he had taken plenty of interest in them as well. He knew that the eldest, Michel was planning to follow in his father's footsteps and serve onboard a vessel. As he was only twelve, he still had quite a few years to change his career aspirations, though it was clear from the excitement in his voice whenever he would speak with Erik regarding his ship, Michel would most likely be on the first freighter out of port as soon as he came of age.

He also told Christine that the ten year old twins, Jean-Paul and Jacqueline, were completely inseparable and that they often were found completing each others sentences. Seven year old Henri was the quiet and shy child who was typically wherever his mother was. Last but not in the bit least was four year old Fiona. She was the only child to bear an Irish given name as Stone had not been present at her birth. Christine laughed as Erik told her how Stone had refused to call the child Fiona because he had not been included in the decision and how Maura had locked the man out of the house for two days until he relented.

As the day dwindled toward twilight, Erik asked Christine to join him for a walk. They strolled the gardens behind the Stone residence and she marveled at the night sky that was descending. She thought of her home in France. She had spent many evenings watching the sun set over the horizon and the stars appear. The deep, dusky blue was the same whether here in America or in Paris. The only difference was the man holding her hand, standing at her side. She glanced up at the exposed side of his face, grateful that she had chosen to walk to his left. Feeling her stare, he stopped and faced her fully. "I am returning to the ship, Christine, and I will have to remain there for several days." Seeing her disappointment caused his heart to leap. "I will return on Sunday."

Christine mentally calculated the six days until his next appearance. She knew that he had many tasks to complete now that the Fereshteh had returned to port and that he had already insisted that Stone remain here with his family for a few days. Without Stone's presence, he would be shorthanded in completing the removal and distribution of the cargo.

His hand lifted to stroke her cheek that was illuminated by the moonlight giving her an aura much like the angel that he had always equated her with. "When I return, I hope to have a different answer from you regarding my proposal."

Feeling guilty, she dropped her gaze to his feet. "I fear that I will disappoint you again, Erik. But if you will only wait for a time, everything will become clear to us both."

Resigned that he would not hear what he wished, he led her back to the house, keeping close reign on his temper. He would not leave her for almost a week with the last words between them in anger. After giving Charles a hug, getting a peck from Maura and thanking Stone for all of his assistance on their recent voyage, Erik made his way back out to the stables where the carriage driver had been waiting for him. Before climbing into the carriage, he embraced Christine and dizzied her senses with a long, drawn out kiss. As she watched the vehicle pulling away, she raised her fingers to touch her moist, swollen lips. _It won't be long, Erik_, she thought. _We have been given another chance and we can wait a few weeks more. I hope._


	20. The Threat Approaches

_A/N: I know Christine is a moron. Come on ladies, who did she choose in the actual story? I have always thought she was a coward and that was what motivated her to do what she does. You know, Erik really doesn't deserve her…perhaps I could add a new character for him to fall in love with? How does the feisty and daring Jema Moda sound? Just kidding. On with the drama._

**Ch. 20 – The Threat Approaches**

Six days in a household of nine people can contain a flurry of activity causing the days to fly by. However despite the fact that the activity level was high, Christine felt that the days were treacherously long. It was only Thursday, leaving three more days until Erik's return. She had finally sat down the write the letter to Robert and had sent it into Charleston with Stone this morning. The missive had indicated that she and Charles were both well and that they were anxious to hear of the current goings on at the de Chagny household. She was concerned about the fact that a return telegram would pinpoint their location to Philippe if he was searching for them. Stone had assured her that there were ways that they could prevent him from finding out her exact whereabouts and she left those details to him.

In the days that she had been with the Stones, she had become fast friends with Maura and now did not find it difficult at all to remember the children. Each of them already held a special place in her heart and Charles was overjoyed to have playmates. As an only child he had been deprived of the simple pleasure of companionship with other children. Christine loved to sit on the porch and watch the boys running around the yard while the girls sat next to her asking about her days as an opera singer.

The day after they arrived, she had asked Stone his feelings on teaching her to use a firearm. He had said that he wasn't surprised at her request and would surely help her to learn to defend herself. Each day he had patiently instructed her on the care and use of the revolver that he had always left with Maura as her way of protecting herself and the children while he was gone. Knowing that Maura had also taken the time to learn how to shoot was a comfort to Christine and after the initial discomfort in her arms from holding the gun too tightly, she settled into the lessons and became a fairly good aim after only these few days.

As the women were cleaning the dishes from breakfast, Maura continued the very subtle and tactful inquiry into Christine and Erik's relationship. She had slowly and patiently been dropping questions each day, amassing more and more information. Christine was impressed with the woman's gentle persistence. She recognized the traits that she had found so admirable in Stone present in his wife. She wondered which one had learned it from the other.

"Christine, you said that you and the Captain had known each other before the voyage. Yes?" Christine nodded her head in affirmation. "The girls have told me that you were a famous singer at the Paris opera, is that where you had known him before?"

"Yes," Christine answered. She knew it was cruel to not include an explanation, but she found it much more pleasurable to make Maura ask her for the details.

"I suppose it is possible to picture Erik in that type of setting. He seems to be a man of many talents?" Maura gave Christine a sly grin and turned back to the sink and the dishes.

Christine felt a blush rise to her cheeks at the woman's insinuation. "Maura!" she exclaimed. She had to admit that she loved the constant teasing banter that she had grown accustomed to with Maura. She assumed that this was what it must feel like to have a sister. Meg Giry had been the last friend that she had known and she hadn't seen her in eight years.

Feigning innocence Maura said, "What? Christine, what did you think I meant? I was merely suggesting that he was quite the well-rounded individual. Opera. Shipping. They are certainly different ends of the spectrum, don't you agree?"

Christine rolled her eyes at the other woman and was rewarded with laughter. "Erik is very versatile, no doubt. He was actually my teacher at the Opera Populaire. Since I was a child."

Maura dropped the dish that she had been washing back into the sink and gave Christine her full attention. "You've known him since you were a child?"

"Yes. Our relationship has…developed over many years." Christine sat at the table and gestured for Maura to do the same. She figured now was as good a time as any to confide in her friend. Hours later, Maura knew everything there was to know about Christine, Raoul, Erik and Philippe. She had shed a few tears for the woman sitting across from her as well as for the man that commanded her husband. It was obvious that this couple had struggled terribly to come together, and even now they had to continue to fight for their love.

As she embraced Christine, she said, "Christine, I know it's none of my business, but I think that you should tell Erik about Philippe when he returns on Sunday. The man has a right to know as soon as possible. Keeping him in the dark won't serve you well." She smiled at the other woman in an understanding way and returned to the dishes. Christine took the opportunity to go check on Charles and found him and the other children playing cowboys and Indians.

She knew Maura was right, she was being stupid and causing more angst to their relationship by not telling Erik everything. She determined that on Sunday she would tell him the entire story and trust him to do what was right.

As she stood watching the children, she saw Stone coming up the drive on his horse. She waved in acknowledgement and was surprised when he did not ride to the stables but directly to her. When he pulled up alongside of the house, his expression was grave.

"What is it Stone? Is it Erik? Is he alright?"

"I didn't have the opportunity to get to the ship. When I took the letter into the wire office there was a message there for you."

"How could that be? No one knows…" Icy fear clenched her heart. It could only mean one thing, Philippe knew where they were. With a trembling hand she took the correspondence from Stone and tore into it.

_Madame de Chagny._

_I regret to inform you that the Comte has been alerted to your whereabouts. Upon your departure, he used unscrupulous means to gain the knowledge that you had left for Le Havre. I followed him to the port town without his knowledge. He was able to ascertain the name of the ship that you had set sail on as well as their destination. He booked passage on a ship shortly after you had left, bound for Charleston. I pray that this letter reaches you in time and that you will be able to take Charles far away from there before he arrives. _

_I am so sorry Christine for allowing him to find you. Please forgive me._

_Robert Bertrand_

Christine finished reading and sank to the floor. She had gone ghost white, her eyes unfocused. Stone dismounted and reached for the note. He scanned it with concern and sat down next to her. "Christine?"

"Hmmm?"

"It's time to tell Erik." He helped her stand and led her into the house and to Maura. She could tell right away that something disastrous had happened and without a word took Christine to her room and helped her settle into her bed. After she had left the room to confer with her husband, Christine turned onto her side and willed herself to keep breathing.

Once he had given Maura the letter to read, Stone took it with him as he made his way back to Charleston. Erik had to be told immediately. He wasn't sure whether he should tell him the story or allow Christine to do so. He doubted that right now she was in any shape to relate the tale to Erik and decided to do it himself.

Once onboard the Fereshteh, he search everywhere for the Captain to no avail. The man was not on the ship. _Strange_, he thought, _Erik should be here_. The men could only tell Stone that the Captain had left in a hurry the day before and had not returned. Stone couldn't believe that Erik would leave without any instruction or explanation. He quickly assessed the situation and left a senior officer with a list of duties for the crew, assuring him that either he or the Captain would return shortly.

He disembarked and remounted his horse, pointing him in the direction of Erik's home. After pushing his mount into a full gallop, he reached Erik's federal style town house in a little under an hour. After giving the horse some water and settling him in the stables, he approached the front door and knocked. When several more attempts failed to rouse someone, he tried the handle and found it unlocked. Stone entered the magnificent entryway that was highlighted by the curving central staircase. He dashed from room to room, looking for a sign of his friend and was finally rewarded by the sight of the man's mask itself lying on the floor of the study. More urgently, he ran up the stairs to find Erik, calling out his name.

In the master bedroom he found him passed out on the floor. The room stunk of liquor which could be accounted for by the spilled contents of a whiskey bottle next to the man. Stone was baffled by the fact that not only had Erik deserted his duties, but here he was, completely inebriated. He had not known the man to drink more than a few glasses of fine wine in the past and certainly Erik had never gotten drunk in the years that Stone had served with him. He wondered at what had caused the man so much grief to send him into this state.

He attempted to pick Erik up and decided it would be easier to rouse him instead. However it was not an easy task, and Stone wondered if perhaps the man had put himself into a permanent stupor. After several tries, he was rewarded for his efforts as Erik moaned and began to stir. When he finally opened his bloodshot eyes, he fixed a deadly gaze upon Stone, not knowing who it was at first that had disturbed him. Without his mask and looking fit to kill, Stone found the Captain a horrific sight for the first time. He backed away from Erik, allowing him time to come to his senses and putting himself out of danger.

After realizing it was Stone in the room with him, he growled, "What the hell are you doing here?" Stone was no less disconcerted since Erik still had a murderous look in his eyes despite the fact that he knew there was no threat to him.

"Captain, why are you not onboard the ship?"

"I have decided to end my career. Would you like to buy a freighter, Stone?" he asked with sarcasm. It was apparent that the mass amount of alcohol that he had consumed still lingered in his system.

"What's happened, Captain?" Stone asked with trepidation.

"What's happened, Stone? Let's see. Well, I suppose all that has happened is that I have realized once again that I am nothing more than what my own dear mother saw me as. An unworthy monster. A foul creature of darkness." He reached for the overturned bottle of liquor and attempted to take a drink. Finding no contents he whipped the bottle at the closest wall, shattering it into a million pieces. Without a glance at Stone, he stormed out of the room and downstairs. He found another bottle of whiskey in the study and set about to empty it.

When Stone finally caught up with him, he stood silently and watched Erik drowning his pain. Finally he spoke, "I don't know what you are on about, Captain, but I think you might be under the wrong assumption."

"I don't think so, Mr. Stone. You see…I've been here before."

"What are you talking about?"

"Christine. I'm talking about Christine." His face looked suddenly sullen and he took another long pull on the bottle. "Darling Christine." This was not said with affection, but snarled out. "She has made a fool of me for the last time. The lying bitch!"

Stone was shocked at Erik's words. He had no idea what could have set the man off like this. Suddenly he had a thought, "Is this about Philippe de Chagny?"

Erik's eyes narrowed to slits and he walked toward Stone threateningly. "You know about this? You know?" For a moment, Stone believed that Erik was going to hit him, but instead the tortured man doubled over as if he himself had received a blow to the gut. "Get out of here Stone!" he shouted. "Get the hell out of here!"

Stone found himself being muscled to the front door and thrown out onto the porch before the door was slammed and locked. He sat in stunned disbelief at the events that had taken place this day. Confusion, misunderstandings, and lack of communications would be the death of them all he decided.

Knowing that Erik would never let him back in given his current state, he made his way back to the stables and mounted his horse. He headed back home to try and sort out the next course of action.


	21. Something Wicked This Way Comes

_A/N: I hope by now that most of you are happy with the frequency that I have been updating this story. However, I am now going to break some terrible news to you all. I am going away for the whole weekend on a Girl Scout camping trip. I will be unable to update again until at least Monday. Also, after some of the comments that I have been hearing, I have decided to rework some of the next chapter. So I beg you to be patient with me! The next two chapters will be totally worth the wait – I hope. Everyone have a great weekend. _

**Ch. 21 – Something Wicked This Way Comes**

"Excuse me, good man. Do you serve aboard this ship?"

Marius LeMarq turned at the Frenchman's question. "Yes," he answered as he took in the man's noble appearance. He was dressed elegantly and wore a jeweled ring on his little finger. Marius instantly felt a dislike for him as he did for all men of breeding that never lifted a finger or broke a sweat. "Why do you want to know?"

"I am looking for a woman. I was told that she had sailed on this vessel from Le Havre with her young son. Do you know of her?" Philippe had noted the sailor's disdain and felt his ire rise at the thought of an inferior taking such an attitude with him.

"Maybe. Whatcha want with her?"

"She is my sister and I was supposed to meet her here in port. Unfortunately I arrived later than was scheduled and I have apparently missed her. I need to know where to find her."

Marius had no doubt that this man could be Christine's brother as she was such a lovely and refined lady. He did however, hope to garner some compensation for himself before he gave out the information. "Aye, we did have a lady here onboard, but I'm not sure exactly where she has gone. I might need my memory jogged a bit, eh?"

Philippe was unimpressed with the obvious bribery attempt. "Ah, yes. Well, if you will accompany me to my carriage, I could find something to help with your faulty memory."

Veritably salivating, Marius yelled out to another sailor that he was going ashore for a moment and then followed Philippe off the ship to his waiting carriage. Philippe reached into the vehicle and produced a satchel from under the seat. Opening it, he removed several gold coins and held them up for the sot's greedy eyes to see. "Where is she?"

Marius couldn't help but to lick his lips in anticipation of the feel of the money in his hot hand. "The lady is probably with the Captain. They were pretty cozy, the two of them on the journey. He's been missing a few days and I would guess they're locked away at his house together." He reached out his hand for the coins but was rewarded only with Philippe snatching them back. "I told you all I know!"

"Do you know where your Captain's house is?" Philippe was growing violently impatient.

"I don't know exactly where it is. But anyone here in Charleston would probably know. The Captain kind of stands out so he is sure to be well remembered here."

"He stands out you say?" Philippe's curiosity was piqued_. What man would have become cozy, as Marius had put it, with Christine_, he wondered.

"Aye, he wears a mask over half of his face when he is not working on the ship. He has a deformity that the more genteel folks wouldn't be able to stomach."

Philippe prided himself on always knowing his enemies, his adversaries. He also made sure to always know his family's enemies as well. The man in the mask sounded a little too familiar to him. He had spoken with Raoul on several occasions about the Opera Ghost that had kidnapped Christine and threatened his life many years ago. It seemed too much of a coincidence that Christine was snuggling up with another man in a mask. Philippe had learned many years ago never to underestimate anyone and never to claim anything was impossible. The likelihood of a man that had been a composer and a singing teacher becoming a ship's captain was negligible. But there was one way to be certain. He had helped his brother keep tabs on the masked man by connecting him with an investigator. They had uncovered many facts about the Phantom of the Opera, one of which was his name. He couldn't remember it off the top of his head, but he knew that it began with an 'E'. He wondered if the greedy sailor would know his Captain's given name.

"Do you by any chance know his name, your Captain?" Philippe asked.

"It's Apollos. Captain Apollos. Don't know his first name."

Philippe knew that he was finished with Marius LeMarq, the man had been as helpful as he was capable of. He lowered the coins until they were eye level with the man. "I thank you for your assistance in locating my sister, Monsieur. I hope that you find this compensation worthy of your help."

Marius's eyes never left the hypnotic shiny coins as Philippe's free hand emerged out of his cloak wielding a long dagger. Those same eyes flew open wide as the blade was plunged deep under his sternum. His mouth gaped open in a silent scream gasping for a breath as his lungs had been punctured. Marius fell forward toward Philippe, who covered him with an arm as if intending to embrace him. It was a short ten feet to the edge of the dock, which was hidden behind several large crates of cargo from the Fereshteh. Moving quickly, Philippe dragged Marius's still convulsing body behind the crates and pushed him into the ocean. He had not extracted the blade from the man and lamented the loss, but he realized it would have been inconvenient to have a bloody knife to clean when he was no where near a suitable area for such a task. Luckily he had still been wearing his gloves so they too would be sinking to the bottom of the sea at this moment.

As he walked back toward his carriage, he heard no shouts, no alerts that anyone had seen his actions. He straightened his cloak and replaced most of the coins into the strongbox inside the vehicle. He ascended the steps into the compartment and hailed the driver. "Who would know the whereabouts of a man who wears a mask?" he asked as he slipped one of the golden pieces into the man's hand.

"You're looking for the Captain? I believe the tailor, Mr. Raines has his address. I've never run the man out to his house before but Raines delivers his own merchandise. He'd be your best bet."

"Take me to the tailor's shop." Philippe ordered and settled back into his seat as the carriage began to move. Thinking deeply about the information that LeMarq had given him, he surmised that the tailor should be able to fill in the last piece of the puzzle for him. He would most like know not only the man's address, but his name, or at least his initials. Then he would know what he was dealing with.

As the cab pulled up outside of the shop, he realized that he was only equipped now with his pistol. The retort would summon too much attention should it be necessary to dispose of the man. He decided that a bribe was going to be the most effective means of getting information at this time. Such was the pity. Philippe had found a large amount of his pent up frustration toward Christine's flight had dissipated upon his taking the grungy sailor's life. It was a beautiful release for him to exercise control over another's existence since he had lost his control over Christine. But this was a temporary affliction. She was not going to remain outside of his grip for much longer.

----------------------------------------------------------------

When Stone returned home that evening, he found Christine in her room packing up her trunks. He noted with a heavy heart her reaction when he had opened the door. It had been apparent that she was expecting Erik by her crestfallen face. Heaving a sigh of preparation, she asked where he was. Stone was concerned about telling her the truth as he didn't know all of the facts yet. He was confused by Erik's current state and had spent the ride home wracking his brain for an explanation for it.

"Erik is at his house", Stone replied.

Understanding came across her face. "He's preparing for us to leave."

Stone shook his head abruptly, he did not want her to cling to the wrong idea. "Christine, he left the ship and he is at his house, but he is not planning on going anywhere right now. He doesn't know what's happening yet."

"I don't understand. Did you not explain about Philippe?" Her face was registering panic.

"He didn't give me the chance. He is upset about something but I don't know what it is. He's not in the mood for a chat just now."

"What do you mean? What could have upset him?"

"He is drowning whatever demons are after him with whiskey."

"He's drunk?" She was flabbergasted having never seen Erik touch alcohol. Her mind was reaching for some explanation.

"Aye. All I can tell you is that whatever has got him upset has something to do with your Philippe. When I mentioned the man's name, he threw me out."

"Why would he…unless he got the wrong impression somehow." She wondered if Philippe had already arrived and had gotten to Erik. He could have told Erik that they were in love and to be married. But if that were the case, she did not doubt that Erik would probably have personally escorted Philippe to the Stone's front door in his anger.

How else could he have gotten information about Philippe? There was the telegram, but that only contained information showing Philippe in a bad light. She strained her memory thinking of what else there might have been, her eyes focused on her twisting hands as she thought. Suddenly her wedding band caught her eye and a thought formed. She crossed the room to her luggage and threw open the case. She began throwing items out of the trunk, searching for an envelope. Stone watched her curiously knowing that he had just witnessed her realization of something that could help them to understand what was haunting Erik.

When she reached the bottom of the trunk, she ran her hand along the lining and in each pocket. Coming up empty handed she sat back on her heels and buried her head in her hands. Stone was surprised a moment later when she looked at him for she face was not stained with tears, but shone with anger. Finally she said, "There was a letter in an envelope that Charlotte had packed with my things. It was from Philippe and it also contained an engagement ring. Charlotte insisted that I take it with me to sell once we got here, but I had told her that I wanted nothing of the man. I found it a few days after we set sail and I knew that she had chosen for me."

"What did the letter say?" Stone asked.

"It was a letter declaring his love and his intention for our marriage. There were subtle threats throughout, but Erik wouldn't see them. All he will see is that I was planning to marry another man and hiding it from him again. I'm sure the cream on the cake is the fact that it is another de Chagny." She let out a hard laugh and began to repack her things, throwing them in with force. "I can't imagine why he thinks that I ran from France if he believes that my fiancé is there. He is really a hard-headed man."

"Can you blame him, Christine?"

Her head shot in Stone's direction, shocked at the accusation. As she stared at the man, her conscious worked on her causing her to see the truth of the statement. She had lied to Erik, kept him in the dark for her own reasons, valid or not. And now he was suffering great pain and another blow in a lifetime of rejection. Suddenly his pain became hers and she felt the tears finally come. Stone went to her and took her in his arms. Weakly she whispered between sobs, "Why does it have to be like this for us? Always so hard?"

"I don't know why." He hushed her and when he felt she had calmed sufficiently, he held her at arm's length so he could look into her face. "Christine, you must go to him and explain what is happening. He will fight you ferociously at first, but you have to do it. He doesn't deserve this suffering and neither do you. We'll keep Charlie here with us and you come back for him when you have straightened it out and come up with a plan. I told you before not to doubt his feelings for you, and I meant it. He wouldn't be in the state he is in now if he didn't love you tremendously."

She felt as limp as a rag doll held in his hands, but at the mention of Erik's condition and his love for her, Christine's strength began to return. He saw the fire come back into her eyes and was glad for it. She took a step back and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She was thinking clearly now and had need of a couple of things before she would go.

"Can I borrow your horse? I had become quite a fine rider when Raoul and I were married."

"Of course you can. I'll mark out a map for you to follow, but you have to wait until the morning, it's far to dark now."

"I can't wait until the morning Stone. I have to go now." She was on fire now, ready for the confrontation. In the morning, she would have had time to consider the repercussions.

"I will take you part of the way then, until I know that you are almost safely there. Agreed?" Stone asked.

"Agreed," she consented. "Just give me a few moments to change, I'll be down shortly."

After Stone had left her to get ready, she quickly changed her gown into one more suitable for riding. Then she quietly crept out of the room and down to Stone's study. She moved with purpose to his gun cabinet and removed the pistol that Stone had been teaching her to shoot. She made sure it was loaded and tucked it into the pocket of her cloak. She had no idea when Philippe would be emerging, but she knew not to underestimate him. She had decided that she would not leave the house without a means of protection from the moment she had read the telegram. Patting the gun in her pocket, she felt a small surge of power and knew that Philippe was not going to take her without a fight and that she would not hesitate to kill the man if it came to that.

Christine met Stone at the front door and they proceeded out to the stable. Maura had kissed them both goodbye and told Christine, "Give him hell but let him know you love him first." Christine had been grateful for the small giggle before her encounter with Erik.

Stone helped her mount Maura's beautiful mare called Blossom. The horse was well tempered and Christine was at ease in the side saddle instantly. She stroked the horse's mane and watched with impatience as Stone prepared his own stallion. When they finally set out she mulled over her part of the conversation that was yet to take place. She wanted to be ready for him and his objections_. Don't worry Maura,_ she thought_, I'm going to give him hell like the devil himself. Then I'll love the hell right out of him._


	22. Why Can't The Past Just Die?

_A/N: Ok, I'm back. I survived Girl Scout camp and couldn't wait to get back and revise the chapter. Took some blood and sweat and major help from PhantomAnn and Darkest Dreams, but here it is. I hope it was worth the wait._

**Ch. 22 – Why Can't The Past Just Die?**

The pounding on the door had become unbearably insistent. Erik could no longer ignore it and believe that whoever was summoning him was going to give up. He strained to get to his feet and swayed once he was upright. After a moment to steady himself, he started toward the front door of the house. Pulling the portal open, he had expected to be greeted with Stone or Christine herself. Instead he found himself face to face with Raoul de Chagny. _No_, he thought, _he's dead_. But his eyes were unfocused and the porch was dark. He squinted, holding onto the door for support, waiting for his enemy to make a move. "What the hell do you want with me? Your wife isn't here!" he yelled.

Philippe was taken aback by the man's appearance. Raoul had not described him as slovenly or a drunk. On the contrary he had confided that the Opera Ghost was a man of refinement and culture. He was not surprised by the temper however. Raoul had spoken of that at length, describing the evening when Christine had held his fate in her hands and the Phantom had been a hair's breath from killing him. Philippe had no respect for a man who would hesitate to do away with his mortal enemy at the word of a woman. No matter whether the woman was Christine or not.

He noted that Erik was not wearing his trademark mask and assumed that he probably didn't even realize that he was without it. He was also pleased to see that Erik was mistaking him for his brother. This would be much easier than he had originally assumed. He had found no dangerous monster, but a weak, pathetic freak. Satisfied with his appraisal of the situation, he addressed Erik for the first time. "So you are the mighty Phantom of the Opera. Quite a disappointment, I must say." He strode as a man that had been invited, past Erik into his entrance hallway. "This must be a pleasant improvement over the sewers of Paris," he said as he took a sweeping glance of the interior of the house.

Erik was struggling with reality. He couldn't determine whether or not he was actually awake or dreaming this. He also was trying to rationalize Raoul's apparent return from the grave when the man began to speak. His voice was not right. The Vicomte did not have the cool, clipped tone. Once he was inside and the light illuminated his features, Erik could plainly see that this man had a more angular face, a harder appearance and a dangerous, regal manner that would never have fit Raoul. But there was a resemblance, and he had known about the Phantom. "Philippe?" he questioned, realization dawning.

"So your brain is still functioning? Yes, Comte Philippe de Chagny. Raoul's older brother and Christine de Chagny's intended. Where is she?" The question was offhanded as if he were just sent to fetch her and they would be on their way once she appeared. When Erik made no move to either close the door or to answer the question, Philippe moved directly in front of him and asked again in a more threatening tone, "Where is she?"

"She's not here. I haven't seen her since the day we arrived." Erik was not in the mood to fight this man. He could care less at this point whether he took Christine back to Paris or not. He had resigned himself to the fact that he didn't know her the way he had always believed he did. He bore no ill will toward Philippe de Chagny.

"Perhaps you can enlighten me as to where she and my nephew are so that I may collect them for our return to Paris?"

"They are with my first mate and his family, about a thirty minute ride from here. I'll draw you up a map." Erik stumbled toward his study to write out the directions for Philippe. His heart was not breaking, it was a dead lump in his chest. He thought of the letter that he had found under her dresser. And the ring. Philippe's words had left little doubt in Erik's mind as to where Christine's loyalties lie. He had written of their mutual excitement for the upcoming nuptials and of the benefit that the marriage would be for Charles. He remembered the exact words, _'Charles can come to no harm once we are married. I will see to his every need as a loving father. Your son's future depends on our merging as husband and wife. No boy should be sentenced to a life without a strong male role model.'_

In Erik's head he could clearly hear a voice that sounded exactly like Stone, telling him to stop and think this through. The Stone voice said, _Why did she leave France if she was happily engaged to Philippe? What did she hope to gain from leading you on once again? Why did she say she loved you? She had no devious motives, there was no profit in it for her. Why is this man standing in your house, asking you where his fiancé is?_

He closed his eyes tightly willing either his head to clear so that he could come up with the answers to these questions, or for the voice of his conscious to cease. _'Charles can come to no harm…' 'Your son's future depends on...'_ These did not quite sound so much like loving words anymore_. Was Christine actually running from Philippe?_ The question hit him like a ton of bricks. If he had been mistaken all along, he had almost delivered her directly into the hands of the one that she had flown thousands of miles to escape from.

He turned away from the desk and found the man standing in the doorway watching him. "I think perhaps you should wait until morning, Comte de Chagny. Christine and Charles are sure to be in bed at this late hour." For the first time in his life, Erik felt a twinge of apprehension. Gone was the gentleman from outside in the hallway. He was replaced with a cold predator. He knew that he had done himself a disservice by drinking so much alcohol these last few days, as now that he was faced with a threat, he was far too sluggish to defend himself properly. His weapons were behind him inside the desk drawers. They were as useless as he felt at this moment.

"No, I believe I will pay them a visit tonight. But thank you for your kind advice." He held out his hand as he approached Erik. "The map?"

"You are the reason that she left France, aren't you? She wasn't intending to marry you willingly at all."

"You are pushing my patience to the limit, Monster. You will not find me to be as foolish as my brother. I will kill you without so much as a thought. Then I will find your first mate's home and kill him and his family before I take Christine and Charles with me. Should she fight me or attempt to flee again, I will dispose of Charles. You see I have no sense of morality. I don't believe in it." As he spoke, Philippe slowly and calmly continued to advance upon Erik. Erik's stomach clenched at the man's dispassionate words. He had to stop Philippe from fulfilling his threats, but he was unarmed and at a huge disadvantage.

His mind racing for possibilities, Erik began to retreat, backing away from his advancing foe. Philippe's face registered pleasure as he watched the Phantom attempting to flee from him. Erik was inches from the wall and about to trap himself. Philippe could not contain his glee at the weakness of this man who at one time was considered to be such a mighty opponent to his own brother. "I am quite disappointed in you, oh terrible Phantom! Phantom, indeed. You are nothing more than a drunkard and a coward," he spit out as if the words themselves left a bad taste in his mouth. "I believe we are now at an impasse, therefore now would be a good time to tell me exactly where I can find my beloved Christine."

Mere inches from Erik, Philippe's confidence did not prepare him for the other man's actions. As quick as lightning, Erik dove toward the window to his right and ripped at the velvet drapes that were covering it. Before he knew what was happening, the Comte found his neck tightly wrapped with a length of the cord that had previously served to hold the curtains back, and his body crushed against the wall. Erik had not dealt the final death blow, as he was curious about the circumstances that brought Philippe de Chagny to his door.

"Why was Christine running from you?" he shouted at the man. Once again, Philippe managed to unnerve a man that, until tonight had thought he had seen every evil in this cruel world. As he pulled on the rope, cutting off the man's oxygen, the Comte did not struggle, his eyes were placid, his face defiant. Erik saw no fear in his face, no sign of humanity at all. "Tell me!" he shouted in futility. While Philippe was emotionless, Erik's rage was out of control.

"Erik!"

The sound of Christine's scream from the doorway caused Erik to turn his head toward the sound. The second his eyes were off of Philippe, the Comte took the opportunity to remove his hand from inside his pocket and withdraw a revolver. Erik felt the cold barrel of the gun under his chin and heard the click as the hammer was pulled back. He knew that his mistake was now going to cost him his life. Slowly he turned his head back to face his opponent.

Philippe brought his free hand up to clutch at the rope that was still cinched around his neck. He pushed the pistol deeper against Erik's chin and was rewarded as the rope began to loosen. He glanced at the door and saw Christine standing stock still, apparently frozen in shock at the scene in front of her eyes. His eyes traveled back to Erik's and with a rasping voice, Philippe said, "You will not stand in our way as you did for them. She gave herself in marriage to Raoul. Submitted to him her body and her life, but she never gave him her heart because you already had it. She told him that once and it almost destroyed him. He almost let her go to you, but I stopped him. He had her in every other way, why should he care what her heart wanted?"

Erik winced in pain at the realization that Christine had loved him all these years and now they would be parted forever because he had been too prideful and mistrusting to believe in her. Worse yet was the thought of the life that he would be leaving her to live by not stopping this madman. "I will not give her the opportunity to ever choose you over me. There will be no more you." Once again he looked toward the door to where Christine still stood. She had however dared to move as she was now clutching a gun of her own between her small shaking hands. Tears covered her face as she started with hatred and fear at Philippe.

What once should have sounded like a laugh, came out as a hissing wheeze as Philippe reacted to the sight of Christine's lame attempt to threaten him. Returning his eyes once again to look upon his prey, he growled out, "Time to die", and Erik braced for the shot. When he heard the gun go off, he stood in disbelief that there was no pain. Blood splattered on his face causing him to pull back. Amazingly, it was Philippe's face that showed the horror of pain as he slumped toward the floor. A bullet had entered and exited his skull cleanly, leaving a gaping hole at the location of his temple. Erik released the man's arms and he watched him fall to the floor.

Turning toward the door, he gaped at the sight of his love holding a pistol in her hands, standing frozen in shock. He ran to her, taking the gun from her hands and wrapping his arms around her. "Christine? Are you okay?" he asked. She was shaking uncontrollably, her eyes wide and fixed on Philippe's motionless body. She didn't seem to register Erik's presence or the fact that he was holding her.

"Christine? Look at me," he demanded as he turned her face to his.

"I killed him," she said in a voice so small that Erik barely could register the words.

"Christine, you did what you had to do. You saved my life and quite possibly the lives of many others. You must not regret your actions." When she began to shake her head vigorously from side to side, he caught her face in his hands and held it steady, looking deep into her eyes. He noticed that she was not returning his gaze, her eyes focused on his shirt front. Years of insecurities about his face crept to the surface and he had to will them away before he became aware that he was covered in Philippe's blood.

He steered her away from the study and into the parlor, sitting her on his sofa. "I will be right back, Christine. Okay?" She did not acknowledge his question, but he left her there anyway. Stepping into the front hallway he saw that the door stood wide open. As he went to close it, he saw a figure moving rapidly in the shadows up to the porch. Before he had a chance to react, he recognized Stone.

"What the hell happened? I heard a shot!" Stone took in the sight of Erik covered in blood. "Are you hurt? Where is Christine?"

"She is in the parlor. Would you sit with her while I clean myself up and change? She's in shock. She killed Philippe de Chagny."

"She what?" Stone felt as if he had stepped into an alternate reality.

"He had arrived here and was about to dispose of me when she calmly blew his brains out." Erik couldn't help but make the dry comment considering the events of the evening. He was fully sober now thanks to the adrenaline rush that he had experienced when de Chagny had almost ended his life. "I suppose that this was what you were referring to when you asked me about Philippe earlier?"

Stone nodded and reprimanded Erik, "You could have asked Christine about the letter. You are a foolish man to accept her betrayal so easily!"

"I know I am. And once she can understand what I'm saying and retain it, I will beg her forgiveness until the end of time. Now please go to her and stay until I have wiped this foul mess off of myself." He dashed up the stairs leaving Stone to enter the parlor.

Christine sat on the sofa, still wide-eyed. She did not turn when Stone came in, nor did she register the fact that he sat down next to her and took her hand. "Christine?" At the sound of her name spoken by her friend, she turned to look at him. She blinked for what seemed like the first time since she had pulled the trigger. "You did the right thing, Christine. You saved the man you love and yourself and your son. You are a strong and brave woman."

"Where is Erik?" she asked fearfully. "Is he okay? He was bleeding!" She was starting to panic and Stone fought to control her.

"It was not his own blood, Christine. It was Philippe's blood. Erik is fine," Stone soothed.

"I killed Philippe," she said as if Stone did not already know. "He was going to kill Erik and I shot him." As she made the statement, Erik walked into the parlor, wearing clean clothes. He had replaced his mask over a freshly scrubbed face. No sign of Philippe was present. Before he could speak she had sprung off the settee and flung herself into his arms. He held her tightly, stroking her hair and her back as she wept into his shirt. Stone rose and moved past the couple, closing the doors behind him to ensure their privacy.

"Erik, I killed him," she sobbed. "Oh God, what did I do?"

"You saved my life," he answered. He could remember the feelings that he had experienced after his first kill. It was chilling to the core knowing you could never breathe life back into that person. Since he had not grown up with the same morals or sense of decency that she had, he had not dwelt on the negative for too long. He knew that she would be haunted by this night forever regardless of the fact that what she had done had saved them all from a horrible fate at the hands of Philippe de Chagny.

Squeezing her closer he added, "I'm so sorry, my love. If I had not been so foolish and so stubborn, this would never have happened. Please forgive me?"

"I should have told you when we were on the ship, Erik. We were both foolish and stubborn." She was gripping his back tightly, finding comfort in his strong arms. "No forgiveness is necessary."

"I love you," he whispered against her hair. She could not bear the sound of tenderness in his voice, it broke her heart to know what she had missed out on for so many years and what she had almost lost again tonight. Her resolve strengthened with his sweet words. She knew that she had to affirm him in the only way she could.

"Erik, I want to marry you. I want to marry you as soon as is possible. Tonight if we can. I need to be your wife once and for all." She was no longer buried into his chest, but facing him fully with determination in her eyes. His mouth captured hers quickly before she could say anything further. He was drowning in the words that she had just overwhelmed him with.

As the kiss ended, he held her face between his hands and said, "You have saved my life again, Christine. But we must clear away the events of this night as quickly as possible. I want you to rest now. We will make the arrangements to be wed tomorrow."

They left the parlor and Erik took her upstairs to his bedroom and instructed her to lie down while he and Stone disposed of the body and cleaned up the study. She found that despite the horror that she felt about what she had done, the joy of finally becoming Erik's wife was her only thought as she found the peace of sleep.

The men worked diligently for hours cleaning up the room and purging any sign of Philippe de Chagny. His body was dragged out of the house and loaded onto a makeshift gurney that Erik dragged with his horse to a secluded spot in the woods and buried. They surveyed the study and found it to be devoid of all evidence of the killing except for the hole in the wood paneling where the bullet had lodged after leaving the man's skull.

Stone had decided to take the time to journey home so that Maura would not worry overmuch. It was almost dawn when he set out. Erik darkened the first floor of the house and made his way to his bedroom. He removed his shirt, his mask and his shoes and stretched out beside Christine in his bed.

Upon gathering her body to him, he was shocked to feel her bare shoulders. Looking across the room he saw her dress, corset and chemise lying across a chair. His exhaustion seemed to ebb away as the heat of desire replaced it.


	23. Savor Each Sensation

_A/N: Readers, the chapter title is referring to you. Enjoy…_

**Ch. 23 – Savor Each Sensation**

He contemplated just getting under the blankets and moving against her naked form, but found the idea way too appealing. He would not stand much of a chance against such conditions. His hand lay on her back, between her shoulders and began to make its way down underneath the covers. He was intoxicated by the feel of the skin on her back and stopped his descent at the small of her back for fear of going any further without her consent.

Lucky for him, her eyes flew open at the moment that his hand stopped. She did not look appalled by his touch or his boldness. On the contrary she looked as though she had been waiting for him to come to her. Before he could react, she rolled on top of him and began to slowly torture his lips and his neck with her mouth. Christine was fully in control of the moment, which inflamed Erik's passion beyond its limits. He knew this was in her, had known since the night of Don Juan when she hadn't shied away from his provocative words, but embraced them. Before this proceeded, however, he had to know. He had to hear the words from her.

He grabbed the back of her head and roughly tugged on her hair to get her to stop assaulting the side of his neck with her tongue and teeth, and look at him. "Don't you think we should wait until we are man and wife?" he asked in a raspy voice.

"I am your wife. Body, soul and heart. I belong to you." She took his mouth in a hungry kiss and moved her body against his seductively. Her hands ran over his arms, shoulders and up into his hair. Erik was not content to be the submissive one for long, however. Her words had incensed him, driven him to be drunk on the love that she was expressing in her actions and her declarations.

He rolled her over on her back and assumed the dominant position. His weight was not crushing her but pressing her into the mattress in the most pleasant way she could imagine. When he let up, she felt disappointment for a second before she realized that he was intending to remove the coverings from her body. A hot flush crept up to her cheeks and she almost laughed. A moment ago she was acting the temptress and now she was as shy as a virgin to be revealed to him. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as his hand gripped the blanket a foot from the edge. Slowly he pulled, revealing a tiny bit more skin each second. The sensation was erotic as the material of the blanket skimmed lightly across her breasts. His eyes feasted on the swell that had just come into view followed thereafter with the rosy peaks. He lowered his mouth to one, tasting its sweetness, then the other. He peppered her chest with kisses, eliciting satisfied gasps from her, all the while continuing to lower the blanket which was now passing her navel.

His mouth descended along the path that was being revealed, settling to kiss her stomach then her hips. His hands reached up for her breasts, not wanting them to become cold from neglect. He had left the blanket lying under her belly for now. He covered her body with his once again to kiss her lips and to enjoy the feel of her naked breasts against his bare chest. She was aware of his hard erection against her pelvis and felt a desire greater than she had ever felt before. She knew this was it, the final threshold. The moment she had been anticipating for so long.

Grabbing hold of her hands, he lifted them up above her head. He ran his fingers down her arms and her sides, plunging under the blanket to cup her backside and lift her against him. She moaned in pleasure, which incited him further. He pulled one hand out from under her and ran it slowly up her inner thigh. When he reached the juncture of her legs he sought out her core and brought her to climax swiftly. She screamed out his name, arching her back and pressing herself more fully against his hand. His eyes never left her face as he delighted in the look of abandon and desire that he was giving to her.

When she had ridden out the orgasm, she looked at him with eyes heavy from passion. Hooking her arms around his head, she brought him down to her for another kiss. Once he was engrossed in the tangling of their mouths and tongues, she ran her hand down the length of his chest until she reached the waistband of his trousers. She slid her fingers under the edge of the fabric and rejoiced in the feel of his stomach muscles clenching under her palm. Her other hand came to assist and deftly, she undid the buttons. She boldly found her way inside the opening in his pants and wrapped her fingers around his length. He lost all sense of reserve and let out a sound of pure ecstasy as her caresses threatened to take him to the height of passion.

Feeling decidedly encouraged, she slid his trousers off his body and rolled on top of him to luxuriate in the sensation of their unclad bodies pressed together. She sat up and Erik grasped her hips on either side of her. He lifted her body and paused as he was about to finally make them one. "You are mine and I am yours Christine. Never again will we be apart. We are a family now!"

"Yes, Erik. Please..." With her plea he was undone and he pulled her down on top of himself. They moved together with the beautiful harmony that, until now, only their voices had achieved. He clasped her hands in his as she rocked against him. Before long she felt another release coming. Her movements were becoming more frenzied and he knew she was close. Only then did he let go and together they crested on a wave of pure pleasure.

He pulled her down to him once the feeling had dulled to a beautiful aftershock. They kissed, pouring out all their love and passion into each other. "I love you," she repeated over and over, confirming the fact that he would never grow tired of hearing her say it. When the kiss ended, she buried her head into the nape of his neck and breathed in the scent of him before succumbing to a deep sleep. He continued to stroke her long after she had fallen asleep. He couldn't believe that she was his after all these years. They would be married that very day, he decided. There would be no more waiting.

When he finally allowed himself to relax and drift off, his last thought was of the sensation of her breath against his skin and how much happiness such a small thing could bring a man who had slept alone almost every night of his life for over forty years.

-----------------------------------------------------------

When she opened her eyes to the harsh daylight several hours later, she was still lying across his chest. Slowly she lifted her head so that she could look at this sleeping face. She took in the peaceful visage of her beloved, not seeing any deformity, just her beautiful Erik. Her fingers itched to touch him, but she was not ready for him to wake just yet. _Erik will finally be my husband_, she thought with a burst of love exploding in her heart. She would be treated to this serenity every morning for the rest of her life. No longer able to wait, she leaned her lips in toward his face and began to slowly kiss the marred side of his face.

As he woke, he could feel her tender, sweet mouth against his ruined flesh and tears formed in the corners of his eyes. He did not feel anything other than pure adoration for Christine at that moment. _How far we have come_, he mused. The first time that she had dared to see his face he had struck her down and screamed the most vile obscenities at her. He had been enraged that she would dare to reduce him to nothing more than a deformed monster in her eyes. He didn't know why he had reacted that way then. Had he really thought that his face would never be an issue, that she wouldn't see it? He had planned to marry her then, but in truth, it was he that wasn't ready for a commitment to Christine all those years ago. He could never have let go of his insecurities under those circumstances and it would have driven them apart at some point.

Now, he was secure in her love, basking in it. No doubt lingered in his mind that she wanted him and loved him. She was a more exceptional woman than he could ever have imagined, that she had been able to convince him he was worthy of another person's freely offered love. Erik knew he could never live without her again.

"Christine," he whispered. She stopped kissing his face and moved her lips to his for a brief taste. "Please say you'll marry me today."

"I want nothing more in the world Erik," she responded, snuggling against him once again.

"Then we must rise from this bed and make the arrangements. You arrived on horseback?" he asked and when she confirmed that in fact she had, he continued. "I shall ride with you back to Stone's house and you can prepare yourself. I will continue on to Charleston and see to the details and then I shall send a carriage for you all once I have taken care of it."

She was warmed by the notion that he was so competent and able to handle these things. These were further attractive qualities that Erik possessed making him such fine husband material. With her content and cozy thoughts, she inadvertently began to run her hand up and down his bare chest, her mouth nipping at the base of his throat and his shoulder. He growled as he was once again being brought to full arousal. "You will have to stop this, my dear, if we are to ever properly become husband and wife."

She smiled at the effect that she was able to have on him. It made her feel like his equal for the first time. She knew that she should stop, but she found that her desire for him was positively insatiable. Her hand plunged under the blankets and found him. He moved to stop her and she smacked his hand away, giving him a scolding look. "I do hope you don't think less of me Erik, but I am most reluctant to rise from this bed at the moment." He smiled at the look of innocence that she was feigning. Her touches were driving him completely insane as she was boldly exploring his body. "Erik?" she whispered while watching the sensations running over his face. "Please touch me again."

He needed no further prodding, her quiet request was plenty enough. His hands sought out her skin as if magnetized, while his mouth captured hers passionately. Their lovemaking started out frenzied but as it continued, it became slow and sensual. He took his time to bring her to her climax, stroking with his hands, fingers and mouth. She gloried in the tender torment and matched his fervor, touch for touch.

Afterward, Erik dragged her out of the bed and began to assist her in dressing. His hands lingered on her bare flesh as he laced her corset and buttoned her gown. "Are you cold, my darling?" he asked as he felt her shiver. He knew very well that it was he that was causing the reaction in her, but he couldn't help but tease her. She shook her head at him with a mock disapproving look, and then burst out in a fit of giggles. Her heart felt full for the first time in such a long while.

She ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to straighten the wild tangled mess of curls. "Do you have a mirror anywhere in the house, Erik?" she asked, knowing that the sight of her would be a frightening mess.

"There is one in the guestroom next door. I will show you." He led her out of his bedroom and Christine was able, for the first time to take in the beauty of him home. Everywhere she looked she saw touches of elegance. Forgetting about the mirror for the moment, she broke away from Erik and began to examine his choice of décor more closely. "Would you like a tour?" he asked as he stood back and watched with delight, her perusal of his living space.

She nodded yes, and he led her from room to room, showing off the more fine pieces that he had acquired during his many years at sea. She marveled at each causing him to swell with pride. Their final stop was a small sitting room, decorated in pinks and floral patterns. When Christine entered the room she felt a sense of familiarity and looked at Erik questioningly. He turned toward her and took her hand in his. "This room is yours; it was decorated and designed for you. I never truly believed that you would ever occupy it, but I have come to believe in the impossible recently."

She walked into the center of the room and slowly turned in a circle, taking in the sight of the bookshelves lining the walls, the small piano in the corner and the large picture window that overlooked his gardens. When she turned back to him, her face held a mixture of pure joy and gratitude. He was overwhelmed as well, seeing her here, where he had always sat and dreamed of her. Any moment he feared that she would vanish as she had so many times before.

Instead of disappearing, she reached out for him and drew him to her, embracing him with all her might. "Thank you, my darling love. Thank you for never giving up on me."


	24. Marital Bliss

**Ch. 24 – Marital Bliss**

_"Erik, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife?"_

_"Christine, wilt thou have Erik to be thy wedded husband?"_

The kindly Reverend Elliot had agreed without too much prodding to marry Christine and Erik that afternoon. For once, Erik was glad that he was well known in the community of Charleston since the Reverend did not question the haste of the ceremony. As a ship's Captain, it was very plausible and thus easily believed that he and Christine had already been engaged for a long period of time and had met on one of his trips abroad years ago.

St. Michael's church was magnificent with its Victorian altar and stained glass rendition of Easter morning. Erik had never until today felt comfortable in a house of God, but found that with Christine at his side, he was able to stand in this place and not feel the typical surges of anger toward the Lord that he had always felt before. Her love had changed him once and for all.

He looked now at his bride and found her eyes already locked upon him. She wore Maura's wedding dress, a two-piece, high-necked gown of golden yellow taffeta. Her hair had been piled on top of her head with ringlets hanging loose to frame her radiant face. She looked so calm and at peace while he was inwardly trembling. A husband, a father, he was to be both within the next few moments. Two roles that he had long ago cast aside as folly and learned to live without were now to be his.

Holding his Mother's hand, Charles concentrated on the Rector's words, listening for his part in all of this ceremony. Less than two hours ago, he had been in his Mother's bedroom at the Stone's cottage and sat listening to her explaining what was going to come to pass.

"Charles, I need to speak with you", she had began. Charles moved toward her and they sat next to each other on the bed, Christine taking his small hand in between her own two hands. "You like Captain Erik, don't you darling?"

"Oh yes Mama! And you like him now too, he's your friend, you said so." Charles had looked nervous, as if Christine were going to tell him that he would not be seeing Erik again.

"He is my friend, sweetheart, and so much more. I knew Captain Erik before we were on the boat, Charles. Before I was married to your Papa, I knew him. He was my teacher at the Opera house and he was my Angel that I have told you about. I know this is confusing for you, but you only have to know that I love Erik and he loves me, but more importantly, he loves you as well. He wants us to all be a family forever. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Charles shook his head to say that he really didn't understand any of this at all. Christine was pleased that at least he didn't look distressed by anything that she had said so far.

"Captain Erik and I will be married today and I will be his wife, he will be my husband."

"So you won't be Papa's wife anymore?" Charles asked innocently.

"I loved your Papa very much, Charles. And I miss him everyday. But I will be Captain Erik's wife after we say our words in the church today, and you will be his son. He will be your Papa now." She braced for the boy's reaction, not knowing what it would be.

"I will have a Papa like Michel has Mr. Stone? Like Celeste has Papa Robert?" he asked with what looked to be excitement in his eyes.

"Yes, Charles, Captain Erik will be your Papa like that."

Charles threw himself at his Mother, embracing her with all his might and saying, "Thank you Mama, oh thank you."

Tears slipped down Christine's cheeks as she felt her son's need for a father for the first time full force. She hugged him back tightly, then said, "Maybe your new Papa and I will be giving you a new baby brother or sister someday. Wouldn't that be lovely?"

Charles couldn't contain his happiness and began to bounce up and down on the bed. He ran out of the room in search of his playmates to tell them the great news and no doubt also tell them that he was to be a big brother soon.

Maura had heard Charles's hooting and hollering and came running just as the boy streaked past her down the hallway. She peeked in at Christine and noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks. Without hesitation she flew to her friend and pulled her into a fierce hug. "Christine, you are a wonderful and brave woman. What you did last night should never be regretted, but celebrated."

"Oh, Maura, you are such a dear. I am not crying over Philippe de Chagny's death or my part in it." Maura released Christine and looked at her in confusion prompting the woman to continue. "I am just so very happy my friend. I have just told my son that he is to be getting a Papa this very day!"

Maura shrieked and once again hugged Christine with the ferocity of a grizzly. "Today?

Oh merciful heavens! We must get you ready. You will have to wear my wedding dress. It should fit since I was much your size before I became the baby factory that you see before you now." She chuckled and began to list the many things that Christine had overlooked or not thought of up until now. Her first wedding day had been so extravagant and overwhelming that she had not enjoyed one moment of it. Her Mother-In-Law, the Comtesse de Chagny, had made every arrangement without her input and she had found that on the day of the ceremony, she felt more like one of the guests than the bride.

Now she stood in the vast expanse of the glorious church, surrounded by the people that she had come to regard as her family, and bonded herself for her lifetime to the man that she had loved since she was a child. She drowned out the sound of the Clergyman and studied her new husband. He was clad much like he used to dress in Paris, with a cravat, vest and jacket. She couldn't determine when Erik looked his finest, on the deck of his ship in a simple pair of ducks and open collared white shirt, in his most regal finery as he was now, or without a stitch of clothing on as he had been this morning in his bed with her. She felt a blush stain her cheeks and had to fight to clear the perfect image of his body from her mind.

Erik had noticed the redness that colored her cheeks and realized that she was thinking of something wicked. He himself was finding it hard not to think back on the morning that they had shared and the soft voluptuous body that lie beneath those many yards of fabric that ensconced her now. As he was losing himself in his memory of her perfect breasts, he felt Stone nudging him and he turned to find his Best Man holding out the wedding band that he was to be placing upon Christine's finger at that moment. Confused, Erik looked questioningly into Stone's eyes and then at Reverend Elliot for instruction. Once he was aware of what he was supposed to be doing, he knelt down on one knee and addressed his new son.

"Charles, I need to place this ring on your Mother's finger. Would you please release her hand to me so that I can do so?"

Charles relinquished his Mother's left hand to Erik and watched as the man slipped the gold band onto her finger. He didn't understand what this meant, but he figured it had something to do with Erik becoming her new husband and his new Papa, so he smiled up at the couple. Erik placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and a kiss on Christine's cheek, pride running through him.

"I now pronounce that you are husband and wife. What God hath joined together this day, let no man put asunder."

"You may kiss your bride, Captain Apollos," the Reverend said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Applause and whoops of congratulations rang out as Erik leaned toward his wife and captured her mouth with his in a loving caress. As their lips parted, their eyes locked and she whispered, "I love you." He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up, spinning her around, all the while whispering his own words of adoration and love into her ear. Christine's giggles and the Stone family's hoots of laughter echoed throughout the hall before he placed her back on the floor and released her to receive hugs and kisses from Maura and Stone.

As the carriages pulled away from St. Michael's, its famous ring of eight bells chimed to announce the fulfillment of the marriage of Erik and Christine Apollos. Seated on her husband's lap in their private car, Christine listened to the beauty of the chimes, believing that she would never hear a sound so sweet ever again. She was proven wrong a moment later when her husband whispered in her ear, "You are the most breathtaking woman to walk this planet, my wife, and I love you with all my heart. Thank you, Christine. Thank you for giving me a life that is worth living." He followed his heartfelt statement with a kiss that Christine felt all the way to her toes, and with a sigh of contentment that was his first in his lifetime.

Maura hadn't had time to prepare the feast that she would have liked to celebrate the wedding, but she made due with what she had. The adults ate and toasted the happy occasion, while the children burned off the energy that had been stored up during the service by running around the yard. Erik watched Stone stand to fetch something for Maura in the kitchen and took the opportunity to follow him.

"Stone, I owe you…everything. I can never repay you for the part that you have played in restoring my Christine to me. And I can never apologize enough for all the times that I have been the bastard at your expense."

"Captain, seeing you and that little lady happy is thanks enough. And as for your apology, I accept it, but there's really no need for one," Stone said with kindness and understanding. "What are you going to do now? Set sail or stay in Charleston? Have you decided?"

"Not yet. I have to discuss it with my…wife," Erik said with incredulity. "Whatever Christine wants to do, we will do. It matters not to me anymore. I will be wherever she is from this day forward."

Stone chuckled and slapped Erik on the back, "Smart man. You're already sounding like a husband!"

After dinner, Christine and Erik tucked Charles into his bed with promises to return for him in the morning. As the couple was exiting the room, Charles called out in a soft voice, "Papa?"

Erik was taken aback by Charles's calling him Papa so soon, but he found the term as pleasant as he had found Christine's words of love. "Yes, Charles?" he answered as he returned to the boy's bedside.

"I just wanted to see if you would answer me when I called you that. Goodnight, Papa," he said with a smile as he rolled over to fall asleep.

Erik placed a kiss on the boys head and whispered, "Goodnight, my son." He walked back to Christine's side and the two shared a silent moment to mark this precious exchange.

After saying quick goodbyes to the Stones, Erik and Christine rode in the carriage back to their home. As they ascended the stairs leading to the front door, Erik stooped down to lift Christine into his arms and carried her inside and up the winding staircase to their bedroom. He placed her on her feet and moved to begin unbuttoning her wedding dress.

Neither of them spoke as their clothing was removed, and when at last they stood before one another unclad and defenseless, they embraced. Erik lifted Christine's wedding band to his lips and bestowed a kiss upon the ring. He turned over her hand and slowly trailed kisses from her wrist to her shoulder. He lingered on those spots where she would make sounds of pleasure and upon finishing with the left arm, repeated the process on her right. When his eyes once again found hers, he was delighted to already see the passion in them, passion for him.

Taking her hand he led her to the edge of the bed and sat down leaving her to stand before him. His eyes roamed her naked form with appreciation for her full breasts and tight waist. He grazed his fingertips over her causing a sensation so delicate that her knees buckled slightly. His lips and tongue followed the path which his touch had left. As he brought each coral nipple into his mouth, she gasped in delight and dug her fingers into his shoulders. She felt his fingers plunge between her thighs and knew that she would not be able to continue to stand for much longer.

Sensing her eminent collapse, Erik stood and turning, he lowered her onto the mattress. "Oh Erik," she moaned as he once again turned his attentions to her breasts with his mouth. She tilted her head up to look at him when he had stopped and their eyes met. She could see the look of the devil in his face as he grasped her knees and pulled them to the edge of the bed. He dropped to his knees and before she could say a word in protest, his mouth was on her, driving her over the edge.

When she screamed for him to stop the sweet torture, he stood once again, grasped her behind the knees and entered her with a forceful thrust. She nearly came off the bed at the intensity of the feeling that surged through her. Within moments, she was approaching her climax and yelling out his name. He lowered himself to cover her body with his and took her mouth in a passionate kiss as he found his own release.

The sweat covered their bodies and their heavy breathing mixed as they lie together entwined. His head rested on her chest and he was so content that he didn't realize that he was crushing Christine until she attempted to push him off of her.

"I'm sorry my darling," she said, "but you are about to become a widower if you don't allow me to breathe."

He laughed and rolled onto his back, taking her with him so that she was lying on top. His fingers stroked her back as he thought upon the events that had led to this moment in time. "Christine?"

"Hmmm?" she answered in a sleepy stupor.

"What shall we do now, love? Shall we take Charles and sail around the world? Or shall we stay in Charleston and build a life for ourselves on land?"

She shifted so that she could lean on an elbow and look into his face. "I can't make that decision alone, Erik. We have to decide together. Either way I shall be content as long as we are together. I cannot stay here and watch you sail off as Maura has done for years with Stone. I couldn't bear to be apart from you for months at a time."

"That will never come to pass, Christine, for I couldn't leave you either. We have been apart long enough in this lifetime." He stroked her hair back from her face and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry my darling for bringing this up tonight. We will discuss it another time…together. For now, let's get under these blankets before we both catch our deaths, and sleep."

"Since when have you ever gotten cold, Erik? All those years in that damp and frigid cellar at the Opera and you were never the slightest bit chilled!"

"I am afraid that my body had developed a weakness for the warmer climates in my advanced age." He pulled them both up to the head of the bed and covered their bodies with the bed linens. "Another weakness I have developed is a need for more sleep than was necessary in my youth. Now rest, love. We will both need strength for the third of my weaknesses."

"Which is?"

"My weakness for making love to you," he said with a noticeable tone of merriment.

"Oh," she replied. Then she quickly added, "You know, I happen to have the very same weakness I have noticed. Goodnight, husband."

"Goodnight, wife."

_A/N: Well folks, that is just about it. An epilogue will follow soon. Please leave a review…I will be going through withdrawal of seeing your comments after I finish. _


	25. Epilogue

_A/N: Ok folks. It's finally done. Sorry it took so long for the epilogue._

**Epilogue**

_Fifteen Years Later_

"Charles, Where are you?" the red-haired girl called out as she searched the area around her. "This isn't funny Charles! Please come out." When her plea was unanswered, her Irish temper flared. Stomping her foot, she yelled out, "Fine. You play your silly games. I'm going home!"

As she turned on her heel to leave, she ran straight into a large wall of man. He towered over her by at least a foot and his frame was solid muscle. A combination which had always made her go weak in the knees, but now as she was playing the rejected and angry woman, was irritating her as it blocked her escape route.

"You looking for me, sugar?" he asked in a lazy drawl with a slow smile spreading across his face. He was rewarded with a defiant glare from the prettiest blue eyes he had ever seen.

"Charles Apollos, how could you? You left me out in the woods all alone, you brute. Now you let me pass. I'm going home." She tried to get around him but was blocked at every move. Feigning as if she was giving up, she dropped her arms and slumped in defeat. In a quick second, she had lifted her skirts and taken off at a run only to be grabbed a short few feet away by a strong arm around her waist. She was lifted into the air as if she weighed no more than a feather and hauled over Charles's shoulder.

"You let me down! Charles! I am so going to tell your mother on you! Let me down!" She struggled and wiggled trying to get free of his grip, only managing to bring laughter from her captor instead of release.

As Charles rounded the house, he ran straight into the only man that ever managed to dwarf his own form. "What have you got there, son?" Erik asked in mock curiosity.

Hearing the other man's voice, the girl had stopped her struggles and waited to be set down. "Oh this? I believe I have caught me the** Lianhan Shee**, Papa."

"Ah yes, the Irish love fairy. I suppose you know that if she submits to you, she shall be your slave forever. But if you submit to her, you will be hers. I suggest you act wisely son, no man has ever refused her."

"Uncle Erik, please tell Charles to put me down," the girl pleaded.

"I'm sorry Fiona, but I myself am able to refuse you. You see, my heart has been completely devoted to another for a long time," Erik explained and walked past the duo into the house.

Charles continued hauling Fiona into the garden and deposited her inside of the small, domed key gate that stood in the center. Before she could make a move or open her mouth to speak, Charles had covered her lips with his and wrapped his arms around her tightly. As much as she wanted to fight him, she was powerless to resist and she found herself swept up into the passion of the moment, kissing him back with fervor.

When he at last released her from the kiss, she said, "Oh why do I put up with your foolishness? Why do I love you so?" She searched his face, a face that she had always seen as perfect since she was a small child.

"No woman or even love fairy can resist an Apollos man. And no man can resist your beauty, Fiona," he said as he bent to kiss her again. After the kiss ended, he slowly lowered himself to one knee and held out a small band of gold. "Marry me Princess? Make me the happiest man alive?"

Without hesitation she threw herself into his arms, peppering his face with kisses. "Oh yes. Yes, Charles."

From the window, Christine watched her eldest son promise himself to another woman. A tear of pure joy ran down her cheek and a strong hand wiped it away. She leaned back against her husband, his arms snaking around her waist to hold her. He kissed her hair and she felt the old familiar butterflies in her stomach that she always felt whenever he was close to her.

"He will be a good husband and father," said Erik trying to ease her worry.

"I know he will, darling. He had the greatest teacher." She turned to face him at that and they kissed as they had fifteen years before and every day since. "You have always exceeded my expectations as a husband and father."

She stepped back to look at him, the man she had come to realize had been her destiny all along. He had aged gracefully, his hair now flecked with gray, his face etched with lines that had evolved through years of smiling and laughter. How she loved to trace those lines with her fingers as she watched him sleeping. Every wrinkle was another testament to the happy life they had lived together.

"I supposed it was inevitable that the Stone and Apollos families would merge one day. It is rather fitting don't you think?" he asked her as he watched the young lovers now stroll through the garden hand in hand.

"Very fitting I would say," she said then let out a long sigh.

"What is it, love? I know you love Fiona and are thrilled to see Charles so happy. He was miserable sailing around the world with Michel last year. He told me he couldn't bear another day without her when he returned. I can't say as I blame him. I myself couldn't bear to be without you for so long either."

"I was just thinking that we would be having an empty nest soon and then what?"

"Empty nest? Christine, have you forgotten that Sarah is merely fourteen years old and Robert is still wet behind the ears at twelve? We will be lucky if we lived to see an empty nest!" She seemed to perk up a bit at his teasing. "Besides, grandchildren won't be too far off, will they now?"

"Grandchildren? Oh Erik! Won't that be wonderful! Babies in the house again." Her face shone and he was pleased that he was able to turn her melancholy mood. He had vowed on their wedding day to make her happy to the best of his ability until they were parted by death. He remembered that day as if it had just passed, every detail still burned into his brain.

After they had moved the family into his townhouse, Erik had begun to make arrangements to change up his life. He envisioned putting together a fleet of freighters to import and export goods from Charleston where he would run the business side of the company. Without much cajoling, he was able to convince Stone to partner up with him to run Apollos Shipping. Christine, Charles and Erik sailed on two additional voyages until it was clear that Christine was carrying their first child, Sarah. From that point on they remained landlocked, raising Charles and Sarah in Charleston.

Apollos Shipping was very successful, due mostly to Erik's knowledge and his demand of excellence. When Michel Stone was of age, he was put in charge of the flagship and has remained in charge of the Fereshteh ever since.

Robert was born two years after Sarah and their family was complete. As the children grew, Erik's love for being a father usurped all of his other passions, including music. The children and Christine were his life's breath, and he was the cornerstone of their lives as well. Under Erik's loving discipline, Charles grew to be a strong and good man. He took his turn in the family business only to find that his passion was not on the ocean as he had hoped, but in creating and he studied architecture as a result. Instead of sailing ships, he hoped one day to be designing and building them.

"Erik, what are you thinking about?" Christine asked with a suspicious look.

"I was thinking how fate put us back together and what has come of it as a result. If you hadn't been on my ship for that voyage, I would have lived alone for the rest of my life. Instead, I was blessed with a family, a life that I can't imagine not having now."

His emotional response flooded Christine with love. She had also never forgotten how close they had both been to never having this life. How close she had come to not having Erik, a choice that she had made once under duress. Many nights she had been unable to sleep and watched his face as he slumbered, wondering what life would have been like had she not left him all those years ago in the cellars of the Opera. But ultimately, she never wished for those years back with him. It would mean that Charles had never been born and she would not have wanted that. The years they had spent apart during her marriage to Raoul, had been necessary. Neither of them would have become the person they were without that time.

Wiping another tear from her cheek, Erik bent to kiss her. They embraced as if neither wanted to ever let go, which was true. Christine broke the silence finally, "Erik, I love you."

"I love you too, darling."

"Are you busy for the next hour or so?"

"No, I have no pressing matters. What do you have in mind?" When his eyes met hers, he saw at once what she had in mind. Christine was still the lusty minx that she had always been with him. Insatiable he had called her on more than one occasion. Not that he minded of course.

He decided to surprise her with his own brazen behavior and turned to the window, closing the curtains and moving to the next one to do the same. He locked the door and turned to give her a predatory look. Her breath caught in her throat at his gaze. He was still so captivating, so dark and mysterious, even though she knew him inside and out. Slowly she walked toward him and enfolded herself in his arms. He lifted her and carried her over to the sofa in the middle of the room.

"Mrs. Apollos, are you ready to sing for me once more?"

"Only for you my Angel."

**The End**

_A/N: Yay! My first fic is done. I will be honest, it is probably my last as well. But you never know. Inspiration may hit me at some later point. Myself, DarkestDreams and PhantomAnn are heading up to NYC at the end of December to catch the Broadway version of POTO, so that could be a great catalyst! _

_Thank you soooo much to my loyal readers and reviewers. You kept me going, you really did. _

_And HUGE, HUMONGOUS, TREMENDOUS thanks to PhantomAnn and DarkestDreams for brainstorming sessions, for their gentle suggestions and for not letting me abandon the story at the end. Philippe died well because of you both! Are you happy now? You killed a man! _

_Cheers_


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